&  D.  Downey,  London. 

BRET  HARTE. 


wbus 

University  of  California  •  Berkeley 

Bequest  of 
ISABEL  JACKSON  NEFF 


o 

FLIP 


AND 


FOUND  AT  BLAZING  STAR 


BY 

BRET   HARTE 


BOSTON 

HOUGHTON,  MIFFLIN  AND  COMPANY 
New  York:  11  East  Seventeenth  Street 

re#&  €amfcn&0e 

1882 


Copyright,  1882, 
By  HOUGHTON,  MIFFLIN  &  CO. 

All  rights  reserved. 


The  Riverside  Press,  Cambridge  : 
Electrotyped  and  Printed  by  II.  0.  Houghton  &  Co. 


CONTENTS. 


PAGE 

FLIP  :  A  CALIFORNIA  ROMANCE 1 

FOUND  AT  BLAZING  STAB 109 


FLIP:   A  CALIFORNIA   ROMANCE. 


FLIP:  A  CALIFORNIA  ROMANCE. 


CHAPTER  I. 

IUST  where  the  red  track  of  the  Los 
Gatos  road  streams  on  and  upward 
like  the  sinuous  trail  of  a  fiery  rocket 
until  it  is  extinguished  in  the  blue  shad 
ows  of  the  Coast  Range,  there  is  an  embayed 
terrace  near  the  summit,  hedged  by  dwarf 
firs.  At  every  bend  of  the  heat-laden  road 
the  eye  rested  upon  it  wistfully ;  all  along 
the  flank  of  the  mountain,  which  seemed  to 
pant  and  quiver  in  the  oven-like  air,  through 
rising  dust,  the  slow  creaking  of  dragging 
wheels,  the  monotonous  cry  of  tired  springs, 
and  the  muffied  beat  of  plunging  hoofs,  it 
held  out  a  promise  of  sheltered  coolness  and 
1 


2          FLIP:  A   CALIFORNIA  ROMANCE. 

green  silences  beyond.  Sunburned  and  anx 
ious  faces  yearned  toward  it  from  the  dizzy, 
swaying  tops  of  stage-coaches,  from  lagging 
teams  far  below,  from  the  blinding  white 
canvas  covers  of  "  mountain  schooners,"  and 
from  scorching  saddles  that  seemed  to  weigh 
down  the  scrambling,  sweating  animals  be 
neath.  But  it  would  seem  that  the  hope  was 
vain,  the  promise  illusive.  When  the  ter 
race  was  reached  it  appeared  not  only  to  have 
caught  and  gathered  all  the  heat  of  the  valley 
below,  but  to  have  evolved  a  £re  of  its  own 
from  some  hidden  crater-like  source  unknown. 
Nevertheless,  instead  of  prostrating  and  en 
ervating  man  and  beast,  it  was  said  to  have 
induced  the  wildest  exaltation.  The  heated 
air  was  filled  and  stifling  with  resinous  exha 
lations.  The  delirious  spices  of  balm,  bay, 
spruce,  juniper,  yerba  buena,  wild  syringa,  and 
strange  aromatic  herbs  as  yet  unclassified,  dis 
tilled  and  evaporated  in  that  mighty  heat,  and 


FLIP:  A   CALIFORNIA  ROMANCE.          3 

seemed  to  fire  with  a  midsummer  madness 
all  who  breathed  their  fumes.  They  stung, 
smarted,  stimulated,  intoxicated.  It  was  said 
that  the  most  jaded  and  foot-sore  horses  be 
came  furious  and  ungovernable  under  their 
influence ;  wearied  teamsters  and  muleteers, 
who  had  exhausted  their  profanity  in  the  as 
cent,  drank  fresh  draughts  of  inspiration  in 
this  fiery  air,  extended  their  vocabulary,  and 
created  new  and  startling  forms  of  objurga 
tion.  It  is  recorded  that  one  bibulous  stage- 
driver  exhausted  description  and  condensed  its 
virtues  in  a  single  phrase :  "  Gin  and  gin 
ger."  This  felicitous  epithet,  flung  out  in  a 
generous  comparison  with  his  favorite  drink, 
"  rum  and  gum,"  clung  to  it  ever  after. 

Such  was  the  current  comment  on  this  vale 
of  spices  Like  most  human  criticism  it  was 
hasty  and  superficial.  No  one  yet  had  been 
known  to  have  penetrated  deeply  its  mysteri 
ous  recesses.  It  was  still  far  below  the  sum- 


4          FLIP:  A  CALIFORNIA  ROMANCE 

mit  and  its  wayside  inn.  It  had  escaped  the 
intruding  foot  of  hunter  and  prospector  ;  and 
the  inquisitive  patrol  of  the  county  surveyor 
had  only  skirted  its  boundary.  It  remained 
for  Mr.  Lance  Harriott  to  complete  its  explo 
ration.  His  reasons  for  so  doing  were  simple. 
He  had  made  the  journey  thither  underneath 
the  stage-coach,  and  clinging  to  its  axle.  He 
had  chosen  this  hazardous  mode  of  convey 
ance  at  night,  as  the  coach  crept  by  his  place 
of  concealment  in  the  wayside  brush,  to  elude 
the  sheriff  of  Monterey  County  and  his  posse, 
who  were  after  him.  He  had  not  made  him 
self  known  to  his  fellow-passengers  as  they 
already  knew  him  as  a  gambler,  an  outlaw, 
and  a  desperado ;  he  deemed  it  unwise  to  pre 
sent  himself  in  his  newer  reputation  of  a  man 
who  had  just  slain  a  brother  gambler  in  a 
quarrel,  and  for  whom  a  reward  was  offered. 
He  slipped  from  the  axle  as  the  stage-coach 
swirled  past  the  brushing  branches  of  fir,  and 


FLIP:  A   CALIFORNIA  ROMANCE.          5 

for  an  instant  lay  unnoticed,  a  scarcely  distin 
guishable  mound  of  dust  in  the  broken  fur 
rows  of  the  road.  Then,  more  like  a  beast 
than  a  man,  he  crept  on  his  hands  and  knees 
into  the  steaming  underbrush.  Here  he  lay 
still  until  the  clatter  of  harness  and  the  sound 
of  voices  faded  in  the  distance.  Had  he  been 
followed,  it  would  have  been  difficult  to  detect 
in  that  inert  mass  of  rags  any  semblance  to 
a  known  form  or  figure.  A  hideous  reddish 
mask  of  dust  and  clay  obliterated  his  face; 
his  hands  were  shapeless  stumps  exaggerated 
in  his  trailing  sleeves.  And  when  he  rose, 
staggering  like  a  drunken  man,  and  plunged 
wildly  into  the  recesses  of  the  wood,  a  cloud 
of  dust  followed  him,  and  pieces  and  patches 
of  his  frayed  and  rotten  garments  clung  to  the 
impeding  branches.  Twice  he  fell,  but,  mad 
dened  and  upheld  by  the  smarting  spices  and 
stimulating  aroma  of  the  air,  he  kept  on  his 
course. 


6          FLIP:  A   CALIFORNIA  ROMANCE. 

Gradually  the  heat  became  less  oppressive ; 
once  when  he  stopped  and  leaned  exhaustedly 
against  a  sapling,  he  fancied  he  saw  the  zephyr 
he  could  not  yet  feel  in  the  glittering  and 
trembling  of  leaves  in  the  distance  before  him. 
Again  the  deep  stillness  was  moved  with  a 
faint  sighing  rustle,  and  he  knew  he  must  be 
nearing  the  edge  of  the  thicket.  The  spell  of 
silence  thus  broken  was  followed  by  a  fainter, 
more  musical  interruption  —  the  glassy  tinkle 
of  water  !  A  step  further  his  foot  trembled 
on  the  verge  of  a  slight  ravirfe,  still  closely 
canopied  by  the  interlacing  boughs  overhead. 
A  tiny  stream  that  he  could  have  dammed 
with  his  hand  yet  lingered  in  this  parched  red 
gash  in  the  hillside  and  trickled  into  a  deep, 
irregular,  well-like  cavity,  that  again  over 
flowed  and  sent  its  slight  surplus  on.  It  had 
been  the  luxurious  retreat  of  many  a  spotted 
trout ;  it  was  to  be  the  bath  of  Lance  Har 
riott.  Without  a  moment's  hesitation,  with- 


FLIP:  A   CALIFORNIA  ROMANCE.          7 

out  removing  a  single  garment,  he  slipped  cau 
tiously  into  it,  as  if  fearful  of  losing  a  single 
drop.  His  head  disappeared  from  the  level  of 
the  bank ;  the  solitude  was  again  unbroken. 
Only  two  objects  remained  upon  the  edge  of 
the  ravine,  —  his  revolver  and  tobacco  pouch. 
A  few  minutes  elapsed.  A  fearless  blue 
jay  alighted  on  the  bank  and  made  a  prospect 
ing  peck  at  the  tobacco  pouch.  It  yielded  in 
favor  of  a  gopher,  who  endeavored  to  draw  it 
toward  his  hole,  but  in  turn  gave  way  to  a 
red  squirrel,  whose  attention  was  divided,  how 
ever,  between  the  pouch  and  the  revolver, 
which  he  regarded  with  mischievous  fascina 
tion.  Then  there  was  a  splash,  a  grunt,  a 
sudden  dispersion  of  animated  nature,  and  the 
head  of  Mr.  Lance  Harriott  appeared  above 
the  bank.  It  was  a  startling  transformation. 
Not  only  that  he  had,  by  this  wholesale  pro 
cess,  washed  himself  and  his  light  "drill "  gar 
ments  entirely  clean,  but  that  he  had,  appar- 


8          FLIP:  A    CALIFORNIA  ROMANCE. 

ently  by  the  same  operation,  morally  cleansed 
himself,  and  left  every  stain  and  ugly  blot  of 
his  late  misdeeds  and  reputation  in  his  bath. 
His  face,  albeit  scratched  here  and  there,  was 
rosy,  round,  shining  with  irrepressible  good 
humor  and  youthful  levity.  His  large  blue 
eyes  were  infantine  in  their  innocent  surprise 
and  thoughtlessness.  Dripping  yet  with 
water,  and  panting,  he  rested  his  elbows  lazily 
on  the  bank,  and  became  instantly  absorbed 
with  a  boy's  delight  in  the  movements  of  the 
gopher,  who,  after  the  first  alarm,  returned 
cautiously  to  abduct  the  tobacco  pouch.  If 
any  familiar  had  failed  to  detect  Lance  Har 
riott  in  this  hideous  masquerade  of  dust  and 
grime  and  tatters,  still  less  would  any  passing 
stranger  have  recognized  in  this  blonde  faun 
the  possible  outcast  and  murderer.  And,  when 
with  a  swirl  of  his  spattering  sleeve,  he  drove 
back  the  gopher  in  a  shower  of  spray  and 
leaped  to  the  bank,  he  seemed  to  have  ac- 


FLIP:  A   CALIFORNIA  ROMANCE.         9 

cepted  his  felonious  hiding-place  as  a  mere 
picnicking  bower. 

A  slight  breeze  was  unmistakably  permeat 
ing  the  wood  from  the  west.  Looking  in  that 
direction,  Lance  imagined  that  the  shadow 
was  less  dark,  and  although  the  undergrowth 
was  denser,  he  struck  off  carelessly  toward  it. 
As  he  went  on,  the  wood  became  lighter  and 
lighter ;  branches,  and  presently  leaves,  were 
painted  against  the  vivid  blue  of  the  sky.  He 
knew  he  must  be  near  the  summit,  stopped, 
felt  for  his  revolver,  and  then  lightly  put  the 
few  remaining  branches  aside. 

The  full  glare  of  the  noonday  sun  at  first 
blinded  him.  When  he  could  see  more  clearly, 
he  found  himself  on  the  open  western  slope  of 
the  mountain,  which  in  the  Coast  Range  was 
seldom  wooded.  The  spiced  thicket  stretched 
between  him  and  the  summit,  and  again  be 
tween  him  and  the  stage  road  that  plunges 
from  the  terrace,  like  forked  lightning  into 


10       FLIP:  A   CALIFORNIA  ROMANCE. 

the  valley  below.  He  could  command  all  the 
approaches  without  being  seen.  Not  that  this 
seemed  to  occupy  his  thoughts  or  cause  him 
any  anxiety.  His  first  act  was  to  disencum 
ber  himself  of  his  tattered  coat ;  he  then  filled 
and  lighted  his  pipe,  and  stretched  himself 
full-length  on  the  open  hillside,  as  if  to  bleach 
in  the  fierce  sun.  While  smoking  he  care 
lessly  perused  the  fragment  of  a  newspaper 
which  had  enveloped  his  tobacco,  and  being 
struck  with  some  amusing  paragraph,  read  it 
half  aloud  again  to  some  imaginary  auditor, 
emphasizing  its  humor  with  an  hilarious  slap 
upon  his  leg. 

Possibly  from  the  relaxation  of  fatigue  and 
the  bath,  which  had  become  a  vapor  one  as 
he  alternately  rolled  and  dried  himself  in  the 
baking  grass,  his  eyes  closed  dreamily.  He 
was  awakened  by  the  sound  of  voices.  They 
were  distant  ;  they  were  vague  ;  they  ap 
proached  no  nearer.  He  rolled  himself  to  the 


FLIP:  A    CALIFORNIA  ROMANCE.        11 

verge  of  the  first  precipitous  grassy  descent. 
There  was  another  bank  or  plateau  below 
him,  and  then  a  confused  depth  of  olive  shad 
ows,  pierced  here  and  there  by  the  spiked  hel 
mets  of  pines.  There  was  no  trace  of  habi 
tation,  yet  the  voices  were  those  of  some 
monotonous  occupation,  and  Lance  distinctly 
heard  through  them  the  click  of  crockery  and 
the  ring  of  some  household  utensil.  It  ap 
peared  to  be  the  inter jectional,  half  listless, 
half  perfunctory,  domestic  dialogue  of  an  old 
man  and  a  girl,  of  which  the  words  were  un 
intelligible.  Their  voices  indicated  the  sol 
itude  of  the  mountain,  but  without  sadness ; 
they  were  mysterious  without  being  awe-in 
spiring.  They  might  have  uttered  the  dreari 
est  commonplaces,  but,  in  their  vast  isolation, 
they  seemed  musical  and  eloquent.  Lance 
drew  his  first  sigh,  —  they  had  suggested 
dinner. 

Careless  as  his  nature  was,  he  was  too  cau- 


12       FLIP:  A    CALIFORNIA  ROMANCE. 

tious  to  risk  detection  in  broad  daylight.  He 
contented  himself  for  the  present  with  en 
deavoring  to  locate  that  particular  part  of 
the  depths  from  which  the  voices  seemed  to 
rise.  It  was  more  difficult,  however,  to  select 
some  other  way  of  penetrating  it  than  by  the 
stage  road.  "  They  're  bound  to  have  a  fire 
or  show  a  light  when  it 's  dark,"  he  reasoned, 
and,  satisfied  with  that  reflection,  lay  down 
again.  Presently  he  began  to  amuse  himself 
by  tossing  some  silver  coins  in  the  air.  Then 
his  attention  was  directed  to,  a  spur  of  the 
Coast  Range  which  had  been  sharply  sil 
houetted  against  the  cloudless  western  sky. 
Something  intensely  white,  something  so  small 
that  it  was  scarcely  larger  than  the  silver  coin 
in  his  hand,  was  appearing  in  a  slight  cleft  of 
the  range. 

While  he  looked  it  gradually  filled  and  ob 
literated  the  cleft.  In  another  moment  the 
whole  serrated  line  of  mountain  had  disap- 


FLIP:  A   CALIFORNIA  ROMANCE.       13 

peared.  The  dense,  dazzling  white,  encom 
passing  host  began  to  pour  over  and  down 
every  ravine  and  pass  of  the  coast.  Lance 
recognized  the  sea-fog,  and  knew  that  scarce 
ly  twenty  miles  away  lay  the  ocean  —  and 
safety!  The  drooping  sun  was  now  caught 
and  hidden  in  its  soft  embraces.  A  sudden 
chili  breathed  over  the  mountain.  He  shiv 
ered,  rose,  and  plunged  again  for  very  warmth 
into  the  spice-laden  thicket.  The  heated 
balsamic  air  began  to  affect  him  like  a  pow 
erful  sedative ;  his  hunger  was  forgotten  in 
the  languor  of  fatigue  :  he  slumbered.  When 
he  awoke  it  was  dark.  He  groped  his  way 
through  the  thicket.  A  few  stars  were  shin 
ing  directly  above  him,  but  beyond  and  below, 
everything  was  lost  in  the  soft,  white,  fleecy 
veil  of  fog.  Whatever  light  or  fire  might 
have  betokened  human  habitation  was  hidden. 
To  push  on  blindly  would  be  madness ;  he 
could  only  wait  for  morning.  It  suited  the 


14        FLIP:  A   CALIFORNIA  ROMANCE. 

outcast's  lazy  philosophy.  He  crept  back 
again  to  his  bed  in  the  hollow  and  slept.  In 
that  profound  silence  and  shadow,  shut  out 
from  human  association  and  sympathy  by  the 
ghostly  fog,  what  torturing  visions  conjured 
up  by  remorse  and  fear  should  have  pursued 
him  ?  What  spirit  passed  before  him,  or 
slowly  shaped  itself  out  of  the  infinite  black 
ness  of  the  wood?  None.  As  he  slipped 
gently  into  that  blackness  he  remembered 
with  a  slight  regret,  some  biscuits  that  were 
dropped  from  the  coach  by  a  careless  luncheon- 
consuming  passenger.  That  pang  over,  he 
slept  as  sweetly,  as  profoundly,  as  divinely, 
as  a  child. 


CHAPTER  II. 

HE  awoke  with  the  aroma  of  the  woods 
still  steeping  his  senses.  His  first  instinct 
was  that  of  all  young  animals  ;  he  seized  a 
few  of  the  young,  tender  green  leaves  of  the 
yerba  buena  vine  that  crept  over  his  mossy 
pillow  and  ate  them,  being  rewarded  by  a 
half  berry-like  flavor  that  seemed  to  soothe 
the  cravings  of  his  appetite.  The  languor  of 
sleep  being  still  upon  him,  he  lazily  watched 
the  quivering  of  a  sunbeam  that  was  caught 
in  the  canopying  boughs  above.  Then  he 
dozed  again.  Hovering  between  sleeping  and 
waking,  he  became  conscious  of  a  slight  move 
ment  among  the  dead  leaves  on  the  bank  be 
side  the  hollow  in  which  he  lay.  The  move 
ment  appeared  to  be  intelligent,  and  directed 


16       FLIP:  A   CALIFORNIA  ROMANCE. 

toward  his  revolver,  which  glittered  on  the 
bank.  Amused  at  this  evident  return  of  his 
larcenious  friend  of  the  previous  day,  he  lay 
perfectly  still.  The  movement  and  rustle 
continued,  but  it  now  seemed  long  and  undu 
lating.  Lance's  eyes  suddenly  became  set ; 
he  was  intensely,  keenly  awake.  It  was  not 
a  snake,  but  the  hand  of  a  human  arm,  half 
hidden  in  the  moss,  groping  for  the  weapon. 
In  that  flash  of  perception  he  saw  that  it 
was  small,  bare,  and  deeply  freckled.  In  an 
instant  he  grasped  it  firmly,yand  rose  to  his 
feet,  dragging  to  his  own  level  as  he  did  so, 
the  struggling  figure  of  a  young  girl. 

"  Leave  me  go  I  "  she  said,  more  ashamed 
than  frightened. 

Lance  looked  at  her.  She  was  scarcely  more 
than  fifteen,  slight  and  lithe,  with  a  boyish 
flatness  of  breast  and  back.  Her  flushed 
face  and  bare  throat  were  absolutely  peppered 
with  minute  brown  freckles,  like  grains  of 


FLIP:  A   CALIFORNIA  ROMANCE.        17 

spent  gunpowder.  Her  eyes,  which  were 
large  and  gray,  presented  the  singular  spec 
tacle  of  being  also  freckled,  —  at  least  they 
were  shot  through  in  pupil  and  cornea  with 
tiny  spots  like  powdered  allspice.  Her  hair 
was  even  more  remarkable  in  its  tawny,  deer 
skin  color,  full  of  lighter  shades,  and  bleached 
to  the  faintest  of  blondes  on  the  crown  of  her 
head,  as  if  by  the  action  of  the  sun.  She  had 
evidently  outgrown  her  dress,  which  was 
made  for  a  smaller  child,  and  the  too  brief 
skirt  disclosed  a  bare,  freckled,  and  sandy 
desert  of  shapely  limb,  for  which  the  darned 
stockings  were  equally  too  scant.  Lance  let 
his  grasp  slip  from  her  thin  wrist  to  her  hand, 
and  then  with  a  good-humored  gesture  tossed 
it  lightly  back  to  her. 

She  did  not  retreat,  but  continued  looking 
at  him  in  a  half-surly  embarrassment. 

"  I  ain't  a  bit  frightened,"  she  said  ;  "  I  'm 
not  going  to  run  away,  —  don 't  you  fear." 

2 


18        FLIP:  A    CALIFORNIA  ROMANCE. 

"  Glad  to  hear  it,"  said  Lance,  with  unmis 
takable  satisfaction,  "  but  why  did  you  go  for 
my  revolver  ?  " 

She  flushed  again  and  was  silent.  Pres 
ently  she  began  to  kick  the  earth  at  the  roots 
of  the  tree,  and  said,  as  if  confidentially  to 
her  foot,  — 

"  I  wanted  to  get  hold  of  it  before  you  did." 

"  You  did  ?  —  and  why  ?  " 

"  Oh,  you  know  why." 

Every  tooth  in  Lance's  head  showed  that 
he  did,  perfectly.  But  he  was  discreetly  si 
lent. 

"  I  did  n't  know  what  you  were  hiding 
there  for,"  she  went  on,  still  addressing  the 
tree,  "  and,"  looking  at  him  sideways  under 
her  white  lashes,  "  I  did  n't  see  your  face." 

This  subtle  compliment  was  the  first  sug 
gestion  of  her  artful  sex.  It  actually  sent  the 
blood  into  the  careless  rascal's  face,  and  for 
a  moment  confused  him.  He  coughed.  "  So 


FLIP:  A    CALIFORNIA  ROMANCE.        19 

you  thought  you  'd  freeze  on  to  that  six- 
shooter  of  mine  until  you  saw  my  hand  ?  " 

She  nodded.  Then  she  picked  up  a  broken 
hazel  branch,  fitted  it  into  the  small  of  her 
back,  threw  her  tanned  bare  arms  over  the 
ends  of  it,  and  expanded  her  chest  and  her  bi 
ceps  at  the  same  moment.  This  simple  action 
was  supposed  to  convey  an  impression  at  once 
of  ease  and  muscular  force. 

"  Perhaps  you  'd  like  to  take  it  now,"  said 
Lance,  handing  her  the  pistol. 

"  I  Ve  seen  six-shooters  before  now,"  said 
the  girl,  evading  the  proffered  weapon  and  its 
suggestion.  "  Dad  has  one,  and  my  brother 
had  two  derringers  before  he  was  half  as  big 
as  me." 

She  stopped  to  observe  in  her  companion 
the  effect  of  this  capacity  of  her  family  to 
bear  arms.  Lance  only  regarded  her  amused 
ly.  Presently  she  again  spoke  abruptly  :  — 

"  What  made  you  eat  that  grass,  just  now  ?  " 


20        FLIP:  A    CALIFORNIA  ROMANCE. 

"  Grass!  "  echoed  Lance. 

"  Yes,  there,"  pointing  to  the  yerba  buena. 

Lance  laughed.  "  I  was  hungry.  Look ! " 
he  said,  gayly  tossing  some  silver  into  the  air. 
"  Do  you  think  you  could  get  me  some  break 
fast  for  that,  and  have  enough  left  to  buy 
something  for  yourself  ?  " 

The  girl  eyed  the  money  and  the  man  with 
half-bashful  curiosity. 

"  I  reckon  Dad  might  give  ye  suthing  if  he 
had  a  mind  ter,  though  ez  a  rule  he 's  down 
on  tramps  ever  since  they  run,  off  his  chick 
ens.  Ye  might  try." 

4 '  But  I  want  you  to  try.  You  can  bring  it 
to  me  here." 

The  girl  retreated  a  step,  dropped  her  eyes, 
and,  with  a  smile  that  was  a  charming  hes 
itation  between  bashfulness  and  impudence, 
said  :  "  So  you  are  hidin',  are  ye  ?  " 

"  That 's  just  it.  Your  head  's  level.  I 
am,"  laughed  Lance  unconcernedly. 


FLIP:  A   CALIFORNIA  ROMANCE.       21 

"  Yur  ain't  one  o'  the  McCarty  gang  —  are 
ye?" 

Mr.  Lance  Harriott  felt  a  momentary  moral 
exaltation  in  declaring  truthfully  that  he  was 
not  one  of  a  notorious  band  of  mountain  free 
booters  known  in  the  district  under  that 
name. 

"  Nor  ye  ain't  one  of  them  chicken  lifters 
that  raided  Henderson's  ranch?  We  don't 
go  much  on  that  kind  o'  cattle  yer." 

"  No,"  said  Lance,  cheerfully. 

"  Nor  ye  ain't  that  chap  ez  beat  his  wife 
unto  death  at  Santa  Clara  ?  " 

Lance  honestly  scorned  the  imputation. 
Such  conjugal  ill  treatment  as  he  had  in 
dulged  in  had  not  been  physical,  and  had 
been  with  other  men's  wives. 

There  was  a  moment's  further  hesitation  on 
the  part  of  the  girl.  Then  she  said  shortly : 

"  Well,  then,  I  reckon  you  kin  come  along 
with  me." 


22       FLIP:  A   CALIFORNIA  ROMANCE. 

"  Where  ?  "  asked  Lance. 

"  To  the  ranch,"  file  replied  simply. 

"  Then  you  won't  bring  me  anything  to  eat 
here  ?  " 

"  What  for  ?  You  kin  get  it  down  there." 
Lance  hesitated.  "  I  tell  you  it 's  all  right," 
she  continued.  "  I  '11  make  it  all  right  with 
Dad." 

"  But  suppose  I  reckon  I  'd  rather  stay 
here,"  persisted  Lance,  with  a  perfect  con 
sciousness,  however,  of  affectation  in  his  cau 
tion. 

"  Stay  away  then,"  said  the  girl  coolly ; 
"  only  as  Dad  perempted  this  yer  woods  "  — 

"  Pre-empted,"  suggested  Lance. 

"  Per-empted  or  pre-emp-ted,  as  you  like," 
continued  the  girl  scornfully, — "ez  he's  got 
a  holt  on  this  yer  woods,  ye  might  ez  well  see 
him  down  thar  ez  here.  For  here  he  's  like 
to  come  any  minit.  You  can  bet  your  life  on 
that." 


FLIP:  A  CALIFORNIA  ROMANCE.        23 

She  must  have  read  Lance's  amusement  in 
his  eyes,  for  she  again  dropped  her  own  with 
a  frown  of  brusque  embarrassment.  "  Come 
along,  then ;  I  'm  your  man,"  said  Lance, 
gayly,  extending  his  hand. 

She  would  not  accept  it,  eying  it,  however, 
furtively,  like  a  horse  about  to  shy.  "  Hand 
me  your  pistol  first,"  she  said. 

He  handed  it  to  her  with  an  assumption 
of  gayety.  She  received  it  on  her  part  with 
unfeigned  seriousness,  and  threw  it  over  her 
shoulder  like  a  gun.  This  combined  action 
of  the  child  and  heroine,  it  is  quite  unneces 
sary  to  say,  afforded  Lance  undiluted  joy. 

"  You  go  first,"  she  said. 

Lance  stepped  promptly  out,  with  a  broad 
grin.  "  Looks  kinder  as  if  I  was  a  prisner, 
don't  it  ?  "  he  suggested. 

"  Go  on,  and  don't  fool,"  she  replied. 

The  two  fared  onward  through  the  wood. 
For  one  moment  he  entertained  the  facetious 


24       FLIP:  A    CALIFORNIA  ROMANCE. 

idea  of  appearing  to  rush  frantically  away, 
"  just  to  see  what  the  girl  would  do,"  but 
abandoned  it.  "  It 's  an  even  thing  if  she 
would  n't  spot  me  the  first  pop,"  he  reflected 
admiringly. 

When  they  had  reached  the  open  hillside, 
Lance  stopped  inquiringly.  u  This  way,"  she 
said,  pointing  toward  the  summit,  and  in  quite 
an  opposite  direction  to  the  valley  where  he 
had  heard  the  voices,  one  of  which  he  now 
recognized  as  hers.  They  skirted  the  thicket 
for  a  few  moments,  and  then  turned  sharply 
into  a  trail  which  began  to  dip  toward  a  ra 
vine  leading  to  the  valley. 

"  Why  do  you  have  to  go  all  the  way 
round  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  We  don't,"  the  girl  replied  with  empha 
sis  ;  "  there  's  a  shorter  cut." 

"  Where  ?  " 

"  That's  telling,"  she  answered  shortly. 

"  What 's  your  name  ?  "  asked  Lance,  after 
a  steep  scramble  and  a  drop  into  the  ravine. 


•    FLIP:  A   CALIFORNIA  ROMANCE.        25 

"  Flip." 

"What?" 

«  Flip." 

"  I  mean  your  first  name,  —  your  front 
name." 

"  Flip." 

"  Flip  !     Oh,  short  for  Felipa  !  " 

"  It  ain't  Flipper,  —  it 's  Flip."  And  she 
relapsed  into  silence. 

"  You  don't  ask  me  mine  ? "  suggested 
Lance. 

She  did  not  vouchsafe  a  reply. 

"  Then  you  don't  want  to  know  ?  " 

"  Maybe  Dad  will.     You  can  lie  to  him." 

This  direct  answer  apparently  sustained  the 
agreeable  homicide  for  some  moments.  He 
moved  onward,  silently  exuding  admiration. 

"  Only,"  added  Flip,  with  a  sudden  caution, 
"  you  'd  better  agree  with  me." 

The  trail  here  turned  again  abruptly  and 
reentered  the  canon.  Lance  looked  up,  and 


26        FLIP:  A   CALIFORNIA  ROMANCE. 

noticed  they  were  almost  directly  beneath  the 
bay  thicket  and  the  plateau  that  towered  far 
above  them.  The  trail  here  showed  signs  of 
clearing,  and  the  way  was  marked  by  felled 
trees  and  stumps  of  pines. 

"  What  does  your  father  do  here  ?  "  he 
finally  asked.  Flip  remained  silent,  swinging 
the\  revolver.  Lance  repeated  his  question. 

"  Burns  charcoal  and  makes  diamonds," 
said  Flip,  looking  at  him  from  the  corners  of 
her  eyes. 

"  Makes  diamonds  ?  "  echoed  Lance. 

Flip  nodded  her  head. 

"  Many  of  'em  ?  "  he  continued  carelessly. 

"  Lots.  But  they  're  not  big,"  she  returned, 
with  a  sidelong  glance. 

"  Oh,  they  're  not  big  ?  "  said  Lance  gravely. 

They  had  by  this  time  reached  a  small 
staked  inclosure,  whence  the  sudden  flutter 
ing  and  cackle  of  poultry  welcomed  the  return 
of  the  evident  mistress  of  this  sylvan  retreat. 


FLIP:  A   CALIFORNIA  ROMANCE.       27 

It  was  scarcely  imposing.  Further  on,  a  cook 
ing  stove  under  a  tree,  a  saddle  and  bridle, 
a  few  household  implements  scattered  about, 
indicated  the  "ranch."  Like  most  pioneer 
clearings,  it  was  simply  a  disorganized  raid 
upon  nature  that  had  left  behind  a  desolate 
battle-field  strewn  with  waste  and  decay.  The 
fallen  trees,  the  crushed  thicket,  the  splintered 
limbs,  the  rudely  torn-up  soil,  were  made  hid 
eous  by  their  grotesque  juxtaposition  with  the 
wrecked  fragments  of  civilization,  in  empty 
cans,  broken  bottles,  battered  hats,  soleless 
boots,  frayed  stockings,  cast-off  rags,  and  the 
crowning  absurdity  of  the  twisted-wire  skele 
ton  of  a  hooped  skirt  hanging  from  a  branch. 
The  wildest  defile,  the  densest  thicket,  the 
most  virgin  solitude,  was  less  dreary  and  for 
lorn  than  this  first  footprint  of  man.  The 
only  redeeming  feature  of  this  prolonged  biv 
ouac  was  the  cabin  itself.  Built  of  the  half- 
cylindrical  strips  of  pine  bark,  and  thatched 


28       FLIP:  A   CALIFORNIA  ROMANCE. 

with  the  same  material,  it  had  a  certain  pic 
turesque  rusticity.  But  this  was  an  accident 
of  economy  rather  than  taste,  for  which  Flip 
apologized  by  saying  that  the  bark  of  the  pine 
was  "  no  good  "  for  charcoal. 

"  I  reckon  dad 's  in  the  woods,"  she  added, 
pausing  before  the  open  door  of  the  cabin. 
"  Oh,  Dad  !  "  Her  voice,  clear  and  high, 
seemed  to  fill  the  whole  long  canon,  and  ech 
oed  from  the  green  plateau  above.  The  mo 
notonous  strokes  of  an  axe  were  suddenly  pre- 
termitted,  and  somewhere  from  the  depths  of 
the  close-set  pines  a  voice  answered  "  Flip." 
There  was  a  pause  of  a  few  moments,  with 
some  muttering,  stumbling,  and  crackling  in 
the  underbrush,  and  then  the  sudden  appear 
ance  of  "  Dad." 

Had  Lance  first  met  him  in  the  thicket,  he 
would  have  been  puzzled  to  assign  his  race  to 
Mongolian,  Indian,  or  Ethiopian  origin.  Per 
functory  but  incomplete  washings  of  his  hands 


FLIP:  A    CALIFORNIA  ROMANCE.        29 

and  face,  after  charcoal  burning,  had  gradu 
ally  ground  into  his  skin  a  grayish  slate-pen 
cil  pallor,  grotesquely  relieved  at  the  edges, 
where  the  washing  had  left  off,  with  a  border 
of  a  darker  color.  He  looked  like  an  over 
worked  Christy  minstrel  with  the  briefest  of 
intervals  between  his  performances.  There 
were  black  rims  in  the  orbits  of  his  eyes,  as 
if  he  gazed  feebly  out  of  unglazed  spectacles, 
which  heightened  his  simian  resemblance,  al 
ready  grotesquely  exaggerated  by  what  ap 
peared  to  be  repeated  and  spasmodic  experi 
ments  in  dyeing  his  gray  hair.  Without  the 
slightest  notice  of  Lance,  he  inflicted  his  pro 
testing  and  querulous  presence  entirely  on  his 
daughter. 

"  Well !  what 's  up  now?  Yer  ye  are  call 
ing  me  from  work  an  hour  before  noon.  Dog 
my  skin,  ef  I  ever  get  fairly  limbered  up  afore 
it 's  '  Dad  ! '  and  '  Oh,  Dad  ! '  " 

To  Lance's  intense  satisfaction  the  girl  re- 


30       FLIP:  A   CALIFORNIA  ROMANCE. 

ceived  this  harangue  with  an  air  of  supreme 
indifference,  and  when  "  Dad  "  had  relapsed 
into  an  unintelligible,  and,  as  it  seemed  to 
Lance,  a  half-frightened  muttering,  she  said 
coolly,  — 

"  Ye  'd  better  drop  that  axe  and  scoot  round 
getten'  this  stranger  some  breakfast  and  some 
grub  to  take  with  him.  He  's  one  of  them 
San  Francisco  sports  out  here  trout  fishing  in 
the  branch.  He  's  got  adrift  from  his  party, 
has  lost  his  rod  and  fixins,  and  had  to  camp 
out  last  night  in  the  Gin  and  Ginger  Woods." 

"That's  just  it;  it's  allers  suthin  like 
that,"  screamed  the  old  man,  dashing  his  fist 
on  his  leg  in  a  feeble,  impotent  passion,  but 
without  looking  at  Lance.  "Why  in  blazes 
don't  he  go  up  to  that  there  blamed  hotel  on 
the  summit  ?  Why  in  thunder  "  —  But  here 
he  caught  his  daughter's  large,  freckled  eyes 
full  in  his  own.  He  blinked  feebly,  his  voice 
fell  into  a  tone  of  whining  entreaty.  "  Now, 


FLIP:  A    CALIFORNIA  ROMANCE.       31 

look  yer,  Flip,  it 's  playing  it  rather  low  down 
on  the  old  man,  this  yer  running  in  o'  tramps 
and  desarted  emigrants  and  cast-ashore  sailors 
and  forlorn  widders  and  ravin'  lunatics,  on 
ttiis  yer  ranch.  I  put  it  to  you,  Mister,"  he 
said  abruptly,  turning  to  Lance  for  the  first 
time,  but  as  if  he  had  already  taken  an  active 
part  in  the  conversation,  —  "I  put  it  as  a  gen 
tleman  yourself,  and  a  fair-minded  sportin' 
man,  if  this  is  the  square  thing  ?  " 

Before  Lance  could  reply,  Flip  had  already 
begun.  "  That 's  just  it !  D'  ye  reckon,  be 
ing  a  sportin'  man  and  an  A  1  feller,  he  's 
goin'  to  waltz  down  inter  that  hotel,  rigged 
out  ez  he  is  ?  D'  ye  reckon  he 's  goin'  to  let 
his  partners  get  the  laugh  onter  him  ?  D'  ye 
reckon  he  's  goin'  to  show  his  head  outer  this 
yer  ranch  till  he  can  do  it  square  ?  Not  much ! 
Go  'long.  Dad,  you  're  talking  silly  !  " 

The  old  man  weakened.  He  feebly  trailed 
his  axe  between  his  legs  to  a  stump  and  sat 


32        FLIP:  A   CALIFORNIA  ROMANCE. 

down,  wiping  his  forehead  with  his  sleeve,  and 
imparting  to  it  the  appearance  of  a  slate  with 
a  difficult  sum  partly  rubbed  out.  He  looked 
despairingly  at  Lance.  "  In  course,"  he  said, 
with  a  deep  sigh,  "  you  naturally  ain't  got 
any  money.  In  course  you  left  your  pocket- 
book,  containing  fifty  dollars,  under  a  stone, 
and  can't  find  it.  In  course,"  he  continued, 
as  he  observed  Lance  put  his  hand  to  his 
pocket,  "  you  've  only  got  a  blank  check  on 
Wells,  Fargo  &  Co.  for  a  hundred  dollars, 
and  you'd  like  me  to  give  ypu  the  differ 
ence?" 

Amused  as  Lance  evidently  was  at  this, 
his  absolute  admiration  for  Flip  absorbed 
everything  else.  With  his  eyes  fixed  upon 
the  girl,  he  briefly  assured  the  old  man  that 
he  would  pay  for  everything  he  wanted.  He 
did  this  with  a  manner  quite  different  from 
the  careless,  easy  attitude  he  had  assumed  to 
ward  Flip  ;  at  least  the  quick-witted  girl  no- 


FLIP:  A    CALIFORNIA  ROMANCE.       33 

ticed  it,  and  wondered  if  he  was  angry.  It 
was  quite  true  that  ever  since  his  eye  had 
fallen  upon  another  of  his  own  sex,  its  glance 
had  been  less  frank  and  careless.  Certain 
traits  of  possible  impatience,  which  might  de 
velop  into  man-slaying,  were  coming  to  the 
fore.  Yet  a  word  or  a  gesture  of  Flip's  was 
sufficient  to  change  that  manner,  and  when, 
with  the  fretful  assistance  of  her  father,  she 
had  prepared  a  somewhat  sketchy  and  prim 
itive  repast,  he  questioned  the  old  man  about 
diamond-making.  The  eye  of  Dad  kindled. 

"  I  want  ter  know  how  ye  knew  I  was 
making  diamonds,"  he  asked,  with  a  certain 
bashful  pettishness  not  unlike  his  daughter's. 

"  Heard  it  in  'Frisco,"  replied  Lance,  with 
glib  mendacity,  glancing  at  the  girl. 

"  I  reckon  they  're  gettin'  sort  of  skeert 
down  there  —  them  jewelers,"  chuckled  Dad, 
"  yet  it 's  in  nater  that  their  figgers  will  have 
to  come  down.  It 's  only  a  question  of  the 


34        FLIP:  A   CALIFORNIA  ROMANCE. 

price  of  charcoal.  I  suppose  they  did  n't  tell 
you  how  I  made  the  discovery  ?  " 

Lance  would  have  stopped  the  old  man's 
narrative  by  saying  that  he  knew  the  story, 
but  he  wished  to  see  how  far  Flip  lent  herself 
to  her  father's  delusion. 

"  Ye  see,  one  night  about  two  years  ago  I 
had  a  pit  o'  charcoal  burning  out  there,  and 
tho'  it  had  been  a  smouldering  and  a  smoking 
and  a  blazing  for  nigh  unto  a  month,  some 
how  it  did  n't  charcoal  worth  a  cent.  And 
yet,  dog  my  skin,  but  the  heal;  o'  that  er  pit 
was  suthin  hidyus  and  frightful ;  ye  could  n't 
stand  within  a  hundred  yards  of  it,  and  they 
could  feel  it  on  the  stage  road  three  miles 
over  yon,  t  'other  side  the  mountain.  There 
was  nights  when  me  and  Flip  had  to  take  our 
blankets  up  the  ravine  and  camp  out  all  night, 
and  the  back  of  this  yer  hut  shriveled  up 
like  that  bacon.  It  was  about  as  nigh  on  to 
hell  as  any  sample  ye  kin  get  here.  Now, 


FLIP:  A   CALIFORNIA  ROMANCE.       35 

mebbe  you  think  I  built  that  air  fire  ?  Meb- 
be  you  '11  allow  the  heat  was  just  the  nat'ral 
burning  of  that  pit  ?  " 

"  Certainly,"  said  Lance,  trying  to  see  Flip's 
eyes,  which  were  resolutely  averted. 

"  Thet  's  whar  you  'd  be  lyin'  !  That  yar 
heat  kem  out  of  the  bowels  of  the  yearth,  — 
kem  up  like  out  of  a  chimbley  or  a  blast,  and 
kep  up  that  yar  fire.  And  when  she  cools 
down  a  month  after,  and  I  got  to  strip  her, 
there  was  a  hole  in  the  yearth,  and  a  spring 
o'  bilin',  scaldin'  water  pourin'  out  of  it  ez 
big  as  your  waist.  And  right  in  the  middle 
of  it  was  this  yer."  He  rose  with  the  instinct 
of  a  skillful  raconteur,  and  whisked  from  un 
der  his  bunk  a  chamois  leather  bag,  which  he 
emptied  on  the  table  before  them.  It  .con 
tained  a  small  fragment  of  native  rock  crystal, 
half-fused  upon  a  petrified  bit  of  pine.  It 
was  so  glaringly  truthful,  so  really  what  it 
purported  to  be,  that  the  most  unscientific 


36       FLIP:  A   CALIFORNIA  ROMANCE. 

woodman  or  pioneer  would  have  understood 
it  at  a  glance.  Lance  raised  his  mirthful 
eyes  to  Flip. 

"  It  was  cooled  suddint,  —  stunted  by  the 
water,"  said  the  girl,  eagerly.  She  stopped, 
and  as  abruptly  turned  away  her  eyes  and 
her  reddened  face. 

"  That 's  it,  that 's  just  it,"  continued  the 
old  man.  "  Thar  's  Flip,  thar,  knows  it ;  she 
ain't  no  fool !  "  Lance  did  not  speak,  but 
turned  a  hard,  unsympathizing  look  upon  the 
old  man,  and  rose  almost  roughly.  The  old 
man  clutched  his  coat.  "  That 's  it,  ye  see. 
The  carbon  's  just  turning  to  di'mens.  And 
stunted.  And  why  ?  'Cos  the  heat  was  n't 
kep  up  long  enough.  Mebbe  yer  think  I 
stopped  thar  ?  That  ain't  me.  Thar  's  a  pit 
out  yar  in  the  woods  ez  hez  been  burning 
six  months ;  it  hain't,  in  course,  got  the  ad 
vantages  o'  the  old  one,  for  it 's  nat'ral  heat. 
But  I  'm  keeping  that  heat  up.  I  've  got  a 


FLIP:  A   CALIFORNIA  ROMANCE.        37 

hole  where  I  kin  watch  it  every  four  hours. 
When  the  time  comes,  I  'm  thar !  Don't 
you  see  ?  That 's  me  !  that 's  David  Fairley, 
—  that 's  the  old  man,  —  you  bet !  " 

"That's  so,"  said  Lance,  curtly.  "And 
now,  Mr.  Fairley,  if  you  '11  hand  me  over  a 
coat  or  a  jacket  till  I  can  get  past  these  fogs 
on  the  Monterey  road,  I  won't  keep  you  from 
your  diamond  pit."  He  threw  down  a  hand 
ful  of  silver  on  the  table. 

"  Ther  's  a  deerskin  jacket  yer,"  said  the 
old  man,  "  that  one  o'  them  vaqueros  left  for 
the  price  of  a  bottle  of  whiskey." 

"  I  reckon  it  would  n't  suit  the  stranger," 
said  Flip,  dubiously  producing  a  much-worn, 
slashed,  and  braided  vaquero's  jacket.  But 
it  did  suit  Lance,  who  found  it  warm,  and 
also  had  suddenly  found  a  certain  satisfaction 
in  opposing  Flip.  When  he  had  put  it  on, 
and  nodded  coldly  to  the  old  man,  and  care 
lessly  to  Flip,  he  walked  to  the  door. 


38       FLIP:  A   CALIFORNIA  ROMANCE. 

"  If  you  're  going  to  take  the  Monterey 
road,  I  can  show  you  a  short  cut  to  it,"  said 
Flip,  with  a  certain  kind  of  shy  civility. 

The  paternal  Fairley  groaned.  "That's 
it ;  let  the  chickens  and  the  ranch  go  to  thun 
der,  as  long  as  there 's  a  stranger  to  trapse 
round  with  ;  go  on  !  " 

Lance  would  have  made  some  savage  reply, 
but  Flip  interrupted.  "  You  know  yourself, 
Dad,  it 's  a  blind  trail,  and  as  that  'ere  con 
stable  that  kem  out  here  hunting  French  Pete, 
could  n't  find  it,  and  had  to  g®  round  by  the 
canon,  like  ez  not  the  stranger  would  lose  his 
way,  and  have  to  come  back  ! "  This  dan 
gerous  prospect  silenced  the  old  man,  and  Flip 
and  Lance  stepped  into  the  road  together. 
They  walked  on  for  some  moments  without 
speaking.  Suddenly  Lance  turned  upon  his 
companion. 

"  You  did  n't  swallow  all  that  rot  about  the 
diamond,  did  you  ?  "  he  asked,  crossly. 


FLIP:  A   CALIFORNIA  ROMANCE.       39 
Flip  ran  a  little  ahead,  as  if  to  avoid  a  re- 

Pfy* 

"  You  don't  mean  to  say  that 's  the  sort  of 

hog  wash  the  old  man  serves  out  to  you  reg 
ularly?"  continued  Lance,  becoming  more 
slangy  in  his  ill  temper. 

"  I  don't  know  that  it 's  any  consarn  o' 
yours  what  I  think,"  replied  Flip,  hopping 
from  boulder  to  boulder,  as  they  crossed  the 
bed  of  a  dry  watercourse. 

"  And  I  suppose  you  've  piloted  round  and 
dry-nussed  every  tramp  and  dead  beat  you  've 
met  since  you  came  here,"  continued  Lance, 
with  unmistakable  ill  humor.  "How  many 
have  you  helped  over  this  road  ?  " 

"It's  a  year  since  there  was  a  Chinaman 
chased  by  some  Irishmen  from  the  Crossing 
into  the  brush  about  yer,  and  he  was  too 
afeered  to  come  out,  and  nigh  most  starved  to 
death  in  thar.  I  had  to  drag  him  out  and 
start  him  on  the  mountain,  for  you  could  n't 


40         FLIP:  A    CALIFORNIA  ROMANCE. 

get  him  back  to  the  road.     He  was  the  last 
one  but  you" 

"  Do  you  reckon  it 's  the  right  thing  for  a 
girl  like  you  to  run  about  with  trash  of  this 
kind,  and  mix  herself  up  with  all  sorts  of 
roughs  and  bad  company?"  said  Lance. 

Flip  stopped  short.  "  Look !  if  you  're 
goin'  to  talk  like  Dad,  I  '11  go  back." 

The  ridiculousness  of  such  a  resemblance 
struck  him  more  keenly  than  a  consciousness 
of  his  own  ingratitude.  He  hastened  to  assure 
Flip  that  he  was  joking.  When  he  had  made 
his  peace  they  fell  into  talk  again,  Lance  be 
coming  unselfish  enough  to  inquire  into  one  or 
two  facts  concerning  her  life  which  did  not 
immediately  affect  him.  Her  mother  had  died 
on  the  plains  when  she  was  a  baby,  and  her 
brother  had  run  away  from  home  at  twelve. 
She  fully  expected  to  see  him  again,  and 
thought  he  might  sometime  stray  into  their 
canon.  "  That  is  why,  then,  you  take  so  much 


FLIP:  A   CALIFORNIA  ROMANCE.       41 

stock  in  tramps,"  said  Lance.  "  You  expect 
to  recognize  him  ?  " 

"  Well,"  replied  Flip,  gravely,  "  there  is 
suthing  in  that,  and  there's  suthing  in  this : 
some  o'  these  chaps  might  run  across  brother 
and  do  him  a  good  turn  for  the  sake  of  me." 

"  Like  me,  for  instance  ?  "  suggested  Lance. 

"  Like  you.  You  'd  do  him  a  good  turn, 
would  n't  you?" 

"  You  bet ! "  said  Lance,  with  a  sudden 
emotion  that  quite  startled  him ;  "  only  don't 
you  go  to  throwing  yourself  round  promiscu 
ously."  He  was  half-conscious  of  an  irritat 
ing  sense  of  jealousy,  as  he  asked  if  any  of  her 
proteges  had  ever  returned. 

uNo,"  said  Flip,  "no  one  ever  did.  It 
shows,"  she  added  with  sublime  simplicity, 
"  I  had  done  'em  good,  and  they  could  get  on 
alone.  Don't  it  ?  " 

"  It  does,"  responded  Lance  grimly.  "  Have 
you  any  other  friends  that  come  ?  " 


42        FLIP:  A   CALIFORNIA  ROMANCE. 

"  Only  the  Postmaster  at  the  Crossing." 

"  The  Postmaster  ?  " 

"  Yes :  he  's  reckonin'  to  marry  me  next 
year,  if  I  'm  big  enough." 

"  And  what  do  you  reckon  ?  "  asked  Lance 
earnestly. 

Flip  began  a  series  of  distortions  with  her 
shoulders,  ran  on  ahead,  picked  up  a  few  peb 
bles  and  threw  them  into  the  wood,  glanced 
back  at  Lance  with  swimming  mottled  eyes, 
that  seemed  a  piquant  incarnation  of  every 
thing  suggestive  and  tantalizing,  and  said, 

"  That 's  telling." 

They  had  by  this  time  reached  the  spot 
where  they  were  to  separate.  "Look,"  said 
Flip,  pointing  to  a  faint  deflection  of  their 
path,  which  seemed,  however,  to  lose  itself  in 
the  underbrush  a  dozen  yards  away,  "  ther  's 
your  trail.  It  gets  plainer  and  broader  the 
further  you  get  on,  but  you  must  use  your 
eyes  here,  and  get  to  know  it  well  afore  you 
get  into  the  fog.  Good-by." 


FLIP:  A   CALIFORNIA  ROMANCE.        43 

"Good-by."  Lance  took  her  hand  and 
drew  her  beside  him.  She  was  still  redolent 
of  the  spices  of  the  thicket,  and  to  the  young 
man's  excited  fancy  seemed  at  that  moment 
to  personify  the  perfume  and  intoxication  of 
her  native  woods.  Half  laughingly,  half  ear 
nestly,  he  tried  to  kiss  her :  she  struggled  for 
some  time  strongly,  but  at  the  last  moment 
yielded,  with  a  slight  return  and  the  exchange 
of  a  subtle  fire  that  thrilled  him,  and  left  him 
standing  confused  and  astounded  as  she  ran 
away.  He  watched  her  lithe,  nymph-like  fig 
ure  disappear  in  the  checkered  shadows  of  the 
wood,  and  then  he  turned  briskly  down  the 
half-hidden  trail.  His  eyesight  was  keen,  he 
made  good  progress,  and  was  soon  well  on  his 
way  toward  the  distant  ridge. 

But  Flip's  return  had  not  been  as  rapid. 
When  she  reached  the  wood  she  crept  to  its 
beetling  verge,  and  looking  across  the  canon 
watched  Lance's  figure  as  it  vanished  and  re- 


44        FLIP:  A   CALIFORNIA  ROMANCE. 

appeared  in  the  shadows  and  sinuosities  of  the 
ascent.  When  he  reached  the  ridge  the  out 
lying  fog  crept  across  the  summit,  caught  him 
in  its  embrace,  and  wrapped  him  from  her 
gaze.  Flip  sighed,  raised  herself,  put  her  al 
ternate  foot  on  a  stump,  and  took  a  long  pull 
at  her  too-brief  stockings.  When  she  had 
pulled  down  her  skirt  and  endeavored  once 
more  to  renew  the  intimacy  that  had  existed 
in  previous  years  between  the  edge  of  her  pet 
ticoat  and  the  top  of  her  stockings,  she  sighed 
again,  and  went  home.  , 


CHAPTER  III. 

FOR  six  months  the  sea  fogs  monotonously 
came  and  went  along  the  Monterey  coast ;  for 
six  months  they  beleaguered  the  Coast  Range 
with  afternoon  sorties  of  white  hosts  that  reg 
ularly  swept  over  the  mountain  crest,  and 
were  as  regularly  beaten  back  again  by  the 
leveled  lances  of  the  morning  sun.  For  six 
months  that  white  veil  which  had  once  hidden 
Lance  Harriott  in  its  folds  returned  without 
him.  For  that  amiable  outlaw  no  longer 
needed  disguise  or  hiding-place.  The  swift 
wave  of  pursuit  that  had  dashed  him  on  the 
summit  had  fallen  back,  and  the  next  day 
was  broken  and  scattered.  Before  the  week 
had  passed,  a  regular  judicial  inquiry  relieved 
his  crime  of  premeditation,  and  showed  it 


46       FLIP:  A   CALIFORNIA  ROMANCE. 

to  be  a  rude  duel  of  two  armed  and  equally 
desperate  men.  From  a  secure  vantage  in  a 
seacoast  town  Lance  challenged  a  trial  by 
his  peers,  and,  as  an  already  prejudged  man 
escaping  from  his  executioners,  obtained  a 
change  of  venue.  Regular  justice,  seated  by 
the  calm  Pacific,  found  the  action  of  an  in 
terior,  irregular  jury  rash  and  hasty.  Lance 
was  liberated  on  bail. 

The  Postmaster  at  Fisher's  Crossing  had 
just  received  the  weekly  mail  and  express 
from  San  Francisco,  and  was  engaged  in  ex 
amining  it.  It  consisted  of  five  letters  and 
two  parcels.  Of  these,  three  of  the  letters 
and  the  two  parcels  were  directed  to  Flip.  It 
was  not  the  first  time  during  the  last  six 
months  that  this  extraordinary  event  had  oc 
curred,  and  the  curiosity  of  the  Crossing  was 
duly  excited.  As  Flip  had  never  called  per 
sonally  for  the  letters  or  parcels,  but  had  sent 
one  of  her  wild,  irregular  scouts  or  hench- 


A    CALIFORNIA   ROMANCE.       47 

* 

men  to  bring  them,  and  as  she  was  seldom 
seen  at  the  Crossing  or  on  the  stage  road,  that 
curiosity  was  never  satisfied.  The  disappoint 
ment  to  the  Postmaster  —  a  man  past  the 
middle  age  —  partook  of  a  sentimental  nature. 
He  looked  at  the  letters  and  parcels ;  he 
looked  at  his  watch ;  it  was  yet  early,  he 
could  return  by  noon.  He  again  examined 
the  addresses ;  they  were  in  the  same  hand 
writing  as  the  previous  letters.  His  mind  was 
made  up,  he  would  deliver  them  himself.  The 
poetic,  soulful  side  of  his  mission  was  deli 
cately  indicated  by  a  pale  blue  necktie,  a 
clean  shirt,  and  a  small  package  of  ginger- 
nuts,  of  which  Flip  was  extravagantly  fond. 

The  common  road  to  Fairley's  Ranch  was 
by  the  stage  turnpike  to  a  point  below  the 
Gin  and  Ginger  Woods,  where  the  prudent 
horseman  usually  left  his  beast  and  followed 
the  intersecting  trail  afoot.  It  was  here  that 
the  Postmaster  suddenly  observed  on  the  edge 


48       FLIP:  A   CALIFORNIA  ROMANCE. 

of  the  wood  the  figure  of  an  elegantly-dressed 
woman ;  she  was  walking  slowly,  and  appar 
ently  at  her  ease;  one  hand  held  her  skirts 
lightly  gathered  between  her  gloved  fingers, 
the  other  slowly  swung  a  riding  whip.  Was 
it  a  picnic  of  some  people  from  Monterey  or 
Santa  Cruz?  The  spectacle  was  novel  enough 
to  justify  his  coming  nearer.  Suddenly  she 
withdrew  into  the  wood ;  he  lost  sight  of  her ; 
she  was  gone.  He  remembered,  however,  that 
Flip  was  still  to  be  seen,  and  as  the  steep  trail 
was  beginning  to  tax  all  his  energies,  he  was 
fain  to  hurry  forward.  The  sun  was  nearly 
vertical  when  he  turned  into  the  canon,  and 
saw  the  bark  roof  of  the  cabin  beyond.  At 
almost  the  same  moment  Flip  appeared, 
flushed  and  panting,  in  the  road  before  him. 

"  You  've  got  something  for  me,"  she  said, 
pointing  to  the  parcel  and  letter.  Completely 
taken  by  surprise,  the  Postmaster  mechani 
cally  yielded  them  up,  and  as  instantly  regret- 


FLIP:  A   CALIFORNIA   ROMANCE.       49 

ted  it.  "  They  're  paid  for,"  continued  Flip, 
observing  his  hesitation. 

"  That 's  so,"  stammered  the  official  of  the 
Crossing,  seeing  his  last  chance  of  knowing 
the  contents  of  the  parcel  vanish ;  "  but  I 
thought  ez  it 's  a  valooable  package,  maybe 
ye  jnight  want  to  examine  it  to  see  that  it 
was  all  right  afore  ye  receipted  for  it." 

"I  '11  risk  it,"  said  Flip,  coolly,  "and  if  it 
ain't  right  I  '11  let  ye  know." 

As  the  girl  seemed  inclined  to  retire  with 
her  property,  the  Postmaster  was  driven  to 
other  conversation.  "  We  ain't  had  the  pleas 
ure  of  seeing  you  down  at  the  Crossing  for 
a  month  o'  Sundays,"  he  began,  with  airy 
yet  pronounced  gallantry.  "  Some  folks  let 
on  you  was  keepin'  company  with  some  fel 
ler  like  Bijah  Brown,  and  you  were  getting 
a  little  too  set  up  for  the  Crossing."  The 
individual  here  mentioned  being  the  county 
butcher,  and  supposed  to  exhibit  his  hopeless 
4 


50        FLIP:  A    CALIFORNIA  ROMANCE. 

affection  for  Flip  by  making  a  long  and  use 
less  divergence  from  his  weekly  route  to  enter 
the  canon  for  "  orders,"  Flip  did  not  deem  it 
necessary  to  reply.  "  Then  I  allowed  how  ez 
you  might  have  company,"  he  continued  ;  "  I 
reckon  there  's  some  city  folks  up  at  the  sum 
mit.  I  saw  a  mighty  smart,  fash'n'ble  gal  ca 
vorting  round.  Hed  no  end  o'  style  and  fancy 
fixin's.  That 's  my  kind,  I  tell  you.  I  just 
weaken  on  that  sort  o'  gal,"  he  continued,  in 
the  firm  belief  that  he  had  awakened  Flip's 
jealousy,  as  he  glanced  at  lier  well-worn 
homespun  frock,  and  found  her  eyes  suddenly 
fixed  on  his  own. 

"  Strange  I  ain't  got  to  see  her  yet,"  she 
replied  coolly,  shouldering  her  parcel,  and 
quite  ignoring  any  sense  of  obligation  to  him 
for  his  extra- official  act. 

"  But  you  might  get  to  see  her  at  the  edge 
of  the  Gin  and  Ginger  Woods,"  he  persisted 
feebly,  in  a  last  effort  to  detain  her ;  "  if 


FLIP:  A   CALIFORNIA  ROMANCE.       51 

you  '11  take  a  pasear  there  with  me."  Flip's 
only  response  was  to  walk  on  toward  the 
cabin,  whence,  with  a  vague  complimentary 
suggestion  of  "  droppin'  in  to  pass  the  time  o' 
day  "  with  her  father,  the  Postmaster  meekly 
followed. 

The  paternal  Fahiey,  once  convinced  that 
his  daughter's  new  companion  required  no 
pecuniary  or  material  assistance  from  his 
hands,  relaxed  to  the  extent  of  entering  into 
a  querulous  confidence  with  him,  during  which 
Flip  took  the  opportunity  of  slipping  away. 
As  Fairley  had  that  infelicitous  tendency  of 
most  weak  natures,  to  unconsciously  exagger 
ate  unimportant  details  in  their  talk,  the 
Postmaster  presently  became  convinced  that 
the  butcher  was  a  constant  and  assiduous 
suitor  of  Flip's.  The  absurdity  of  his  send 
ing  parcels  and  letters  by  post  when  he  might 
bring  them  himself  did  not  strike  the  official. 
On  the  contrary,  he  believed  it  to  be  a  master- 


52        FLIP:  A   CALIFORNIA  ROMANCE. 

stroke  of  cunning.  Fired  by  jealousy  and 
Flip's  indifference,  he  "  deemed  it  his  duty  " 
—  using  that  facile  form  of  cowardly  offen- 
siveness  —  to  betray  Flip. 

Of  which  she  was  happily  oblivious.  Once 
away  from  the  cabin,  she  plunged  into  the 
woods,  with  the  parcel  swung  behind  her  like 
a  knapsack.  Leaving  the  trail,  she  presently 
struck  off  in  a  straight  line  through  cover  and 
underbrush  with  the  unerring  instinct  of  an 
animal,  climbing  hand  over  hand  the  steepest 
ascent,  or  fluttering  like  a  bird  from  branch 
to  branch  down  the  deepest  declivity.  She 
soon  reached  that  part  of  the  trail  where  the 
susceptible  Postmaster  had  seen  the  fasci 
nating  unknown.  Assuring  herself  she  was 
not  followed,  she  crept  through  the  thicket 
until  she  reached  a  little  waterfall  and  basin 
that  had  served  the  fugitive  Lance  for  a  bath. 
The  spot  bore  signs  of  later  and  more  fre 
quent  occupancy,  and  when  Flip  carefully 


FLIP:   A   CALIFORNIA  ROMANCE.       53 

removed  some  bark  and  brushwood  from  a 
cavity  in  the  rock  and  drew  forth  various 
folded  garments,  it  was  evident  she  had  used 
it  as  a  sylvan  dressing-room.  Here  she  opened 
the  parcel ;  it  contained  a  small  and  delicate 
shawl  of  yellow  China  crepe.  Flip  instantly 
threw  it  over  her  shoulders  and  stepped  hur 
riedly  toward  the  edge  of  the  wood.  Then  she 
began  to  pass  backward  and  forward  before 
the  trunk  of  a  tree.  At  first  nothing  was 
visible  on  the  tree,  but  a  closer  inspection 
showed  a  large  pane  of  ordinary  window  glass 
stuck  in  the  fork  of  the  branches.  It  was 
placed  at  such  a  cunning  angle  against  the 
darkness  of  the  forest  opening  that  it  made 
a  soft  and  mysterious  mirror,  not  unlike  a 
Claude  Lorraine  glass,  wherein  not  only  the 
passing  figure  of  the  young  girl  was  seen,  but 
the  dazzling  green  and  gold  of  the  hillside, 
and  the  far-off  silhouetted  crests  of  the  Coast 
Range. 


54       FLIP:  A   CALIFORNIA  ROMANCE. 

But  this  was  evidently  only  a  prelude  to  a 
severer  rehearsal.  When  she  returned  to  the 
waterfall  she  unearthed  from  her  stores  a 
large  piece  of  yellow  soap  and  some  yards  of 
rough  cotton  "  sheeting."  These  she  deposited 
beside  the  basin  and  again  crept  to  the  edge 
of  the  wood  to  assure  herself  that  she  was 
alone.  Satisfied  that  no  intruding  foot  had 
invaded  that  virgin  bower,  she  returned  to  her 
bath  and  began  to  undress.  A  slight  wind 
followed  her,  and  seemed  to  whisper  to  the 
circumjacent  trees.  It  appeared  to  waken  her 
sister  naiads  and  nymphs,  who,  joining  their 
leafy  fingers,  softly  drew  around  her  a  gently 
moving  band  of  trembling  lights  and  shadows, 
of  flecked  sprays  and  inextricably  mingled 
branches,  and  involved  her  in  a  chaste  sylvan 
obscurity,  veiled  alike  from  pursuing  god  or 
stumbling  shepherd.  Within  these  hallowed 
precincts  was  the  musical  ripple  of  laughter 
and  falling  water,  and  at  times  the  glimpse  of 


FLIP:  A    CALIFORNIA  ROMANCE.       55 

a  lithe  brier-caught  limb,  or  a  ray  of  sunlight 
trembling  over  bright  flanks,  or  the  white 
austere  outline  of  a  childish  bosom. 

When  she  drew  again  the  leafy  curtain, 
and  once  more  stepped  out  of  the  wood,  she 
was  completely  transformed.  It  was  the  fig 
ure  that  had  appeared  to  the  Postmaster  ;  the 
slight,  erect,  graceful  form  of  a  young  woman 
modishly  attired.  It  was  Flip,  but  Flip  made 
taller  by  the  lengthened  skirt  and  clinging 
habiliments  of  fashion.  Flip  freckled,  but, 
through  the  cunning  of  a  relief  of  yellow  color 
in  her  gown,  her  piquant  brown-shot  face  and 
eyes  brightened  and  intensified  until  she 
seemed  like  a  spicy  odor  made  visible.  I 
cannot  affirm  that  the  judgment  of  Flip's 
mysterious  modiste  was  infallible,  or  that  the 
taste  of  Mr.  Lance  Harriott,  her  patron,  was 
fastidious ;  enough  that  it  was  picturesque, 
and  perhaps  not  more  glaring  and  extravagant 
than  the  color  in  which  Spring  herself  had 


56        FLIP:  A   CALIFORNIA  ROMANCE.  . 

once  clothed  the  sere  hillside  where  Flip  was 
now  seated.  The  phantom  mirror  in  the  tree 
fork  caught  and  held  her  with  the  sky,  the 
green  leaves,  the  sunlight  and  all  the  gracious- 
ness  of  her  surroundings,  and  the  wind  gently 
tossed  her  hair  and  the  gay  ribbons  of  her 
gypsy  hat.  Suddenly  she  started.  Some  re 
mote  sound  in  the  trail  below,  inaudible  to 
any  ear  less  tine  than  hers,  arrested  her  breath 
ing.  She  rose  swiftly  and  darted  into  cover. 
Ten  minutes  passed.  The  sun  was  declin 
ing  ;  the  white  fog  was  beginning  to  creep 
over  the  Coast  Range.  From  the  edge  of  the 
wood  Cinderella  appeared,  disenchanted,  and 
in  her  homespun  garments.  The  clock  had 
struck — the  spell  was  past.  As  she  disap 
peared  down  the  trail  even  the  magic  mirror, 
moved  by  the  wind,  slipped  from  the  tree  top 
to  the  ground,  and  became  a  piece  of  common 
glass. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

THE  events  of  the  day  had  produced  a  re 
markable  impression  on  the  facial  aspect  of 
the  charcoal-burning  Fairley.  Extraordinary 
processes  of  thought,  indicated  by  repeated 
rubbing  of  his  forehead,  had  produced  a  high 
light  in  the  middle  and  a  corresponding  deep 
ening  of  shadow  at  the  sides,  until  it  bore  the 
appearance  of  a  perfect  sphere.  It  was  this 
forehead  that  confronted  Flip  reproachfully 
as  became  a  deceived  comrade,  menacingly  as 
became  an  outraged  parent  in  the  presence  of 
a  third  party  and  —  a  Postmaster  ! 

"  Fine  doin's  this,  yer  receivin'  clandecent 
bundles  and  letters,  eh  ? "  he  began.  Flip 
sent  one  swift,  withering  look  of  contempt 
at  the  Postmaster,  who  at  once  becoming  in- 


58        FLIP:  A   CALIFORNIA  ROMANCE. 

vertebrate  and  groveling,  mumbled  that  he 
must  "  get  on  "  to  the  Crossing,  and  rose  to 
go.  But  the  old  man,  who  had  counted  on 
his  presence  for  moral  support,  and  was  clearly 
beginning  to  hate  him  for  precipitating  this 
scene  with  his  daughter,  whom  he  feared,  vio 
lently  protested. 

"  Sit  down,  can't  ye  ?  Don't  you  see 
you  're  a  witness  ?  "  he  screamed  hysterically. 

It  was  a  fatal  suggestion.  "  Witness,"  re 
peated  Flip,  scornfully. 

"  Yes,  a  witness  !  He  gave  ye  letters  and 
bundles." 

"  Were  n't  they  directed  to  me  ?  "  asked 
Flip. 

"  Yes,"  said  the  Postmaster,  hesitatingly ; 
"  in  course,  yes." 

"  Do  you  lay  claim  to  them  ?  "  she  said, 
turning  to  her  father. 

"  No,"  responded  the  old  man. 

"  Do  you  ?  "  sharply,  to  the  Postmaster. 


FLIP:  A   CALIFORNIA  ROMANCE.       59 

"  No,"  he  replied. 

"  Then,"  said  Flip,  coolly,  "  if  you  're  not 
claimin'  'em  for  yourself,  and  you  hear  father 
say  they  ain't  his,  I  reckon  the  less  you  have 
to  say  about  'em  the  better." 

"Thar 's  suthin'  in  that,"  said  the  old  man, 
shamelessly  abandoning  the  Postmaster. 

"  Then  why  don't  she  say  who  sent  'em, 
and  what  they  are  like,"  said  the  Postmaster, 
44  if  there 's  nothin'  in  it  ?  " 

"Yes,"  echoed  Dad.  "Flip,  why  don't 
you?" 

Without  answering  the  direct  question, 
Flip  turned  upon  her  father. 

"  Maybe  you  forget  how  you  used  to  row 
and  tear  round  here  because  tramps  and  such 
like  came  to  the  ranch  for  suthin',  and  I  gave 
it  to  'em  ?  Maybe  you  '11  quit  tearin'  round 
and  letting  yourself  be  made  a  fool  of  now 
by  that  man,  just  because  one  of  those  tramps 
gets  up  and  sends  us  some  presents  back  in 
turn  ?  " 


60       FLIP:  A    CALIFORNIA  ROMANCE. 

"  'Twas  n't  me,  Flip,"  said  the  old  man, 
deprecatingly,  but  glaring  at  the  astonished 
Postmaster.  "  'Twas  n't  my  doin'.  I  allus 
said  if  you  cast  your  bread  on  the  waters  it 
would  come  back  to  you  by  return  mail.  The 
fact  is,  the  Gov'ment  is  gettin'  too  high 
handed  !  Some  o'  these  bloated  officials  had 
better  climb  down  before  next  leckshen." 

"  Maybe,"  continued  Flip  to  her  father, 
without  looking  at  her  discomfited  visitor, 
"  ye  'd  better  find  out  whether  one  of  those 
officials  comes  up  to  this  yer  'ranch  to  steal 
away  a  gal  about  my  own  size,  or  to  get  points 
about  diamond-making.  I  reckon  he  don't 
travel  round  to  find  out  who  writes  all  the 
letters  that  go  through  the  Post  Office." 

The  Postmaster  had  seemingly  miscalcu 
lated  the  old  man's  infirm  temper,  and  the 
daughter's  skillful  use  of  it.  He  was  unpre 
pared  for  Flip's  boldness  and  audacity,  and 
when  he  saw  that  both  barrels  of  the  accu- 


FLIP:  A   CALIFORNIA  ROMANCE.       61 

sation  had  taken  effect  on  the  charcoal  burner, 
who  was  rising  with  epileptic  rage,  he  fairly 
turned  and  fled.  The  old  man  would  have 
followed  him  with  objurgation  beyond  the 
door,  but  for  the  restraining  hand  of  Flip. 

Baffled  and  beaten,  nevertheless  Fate  was 
not  wholly  unkind  to  the  retreating  suitor. 
Near  the  Gin  and  Ginger  Woods  he  picked 
up  a  letter  which  had  fallen  from  Flip's 
pocket.  He  recognized  the  writing,  and  did 
not  scruple  to  read  it.  It  was  not  a  love 
epistle,  —  at  least,  not  such  a  one  as  he  would 
have  written,  —  it  did  not  give  the  address 
nor  the  name  of  the  correspondent ;  but  he 
read  the  following  with  greedy  eyes  :  — 

"  Perhaps  it 's  just  as  well  that  you  don't  rig 
yourself  out  for  the  benefit  of  those  dead  beats  at 
the  Crossing,  or  any  tramp  that  might  hang  round 
the  ranch.  Keep  all  your  style  for  me  when  I 
come.  I  can't  tell  you  when,  it 's  mighty  uncertain 
before  the  rainy  season.  But  I  'm  coming  soon. 


62        FLIP:  A    CALIFORNIA  JIOMANCE. 

Don't  go  back  on  your  promise  about  lettiu'  up  on 
the  tramps,  and  being  a  little  more  high-toned. 
And  don't  you  give  'em  so  much.  It 's  true  I  sent 
you  hats  twice.  I  clean  forgot  all  about  the  first ; 
but  /  would  n't  have  given  a  ten-dollar  hat  to  a 
nigger  woman  who  had  a  sick  baby  because  I  had 
an  extra  hat.  I  'd  have  let  that  baby  slide.  I  for 
got  to  ask  whether  the  skirt  is  worn  separately ;  I 
must  see  that  dressmaking  sharp  about  it ;  but  I 
think  you  '11  want  something  on  besides  a  jacket 
and  skirt ;  at  least,  it  looks  like  it  up  here.  I  don't 
think  you  could  manage  a  piano  down  there  with 
out  the  old  man  knowing  it,  and  raisin'  the  devil 
generally.  I  promised  you  I  'd  let  up  on  him. 
Mind  you  keep  all  your  promises  to  me.  I  'm  glad 
you  're  gettin'  on  with  the  six-shooter ;  tin  cans  are 
good  at  fifteen  yards,  but  try  it  on  suthin'  that 
moves  !  I  forgot  to  say  that  I  am  on  the  track  of 
your  big  brother.  It 's  a  three  years'  old  track, 
and  he  was  in  Arizona.  The  friend  who  told  me 
did  n't  expatiate  much  on  what  he  did  there,  but  I 
reckon  they  had  a  high  old  time.  If  he  's  above 
the  earth  I  '11  find  him,  you  bet.  The  yerba  buena 


FLIP:  A   CALIFORNIA  ROMANCE.       63 

and  the  southern  wood  came  all  right,  —  they 
smelt  like  you.  Say,  Flip,  do  you  remember  the 
last  —  the  very  last  —  thing  that  happened  when 
you  said  *  Good-by  '  on  the  trail  ?  Don't  let  me 
ever  find  out  that  you  've  let  anybody  else  kiss  "  — 

But  here  the  virtuous  indignation  of  the 
Postmaster  found  vent  in  an  oath.  He  threw 
the  letter  a\vay.  He  retained  of  it  only  two 
facts,  —  Flip  had  a  brother  who  was  missing ; 
she  had  a  lover  present  in  the  flesh. 

How  much  of  the  substance  of  this  and 
previous  letters  Flip  had  confided  to  her  father 
I  cannot  say.  If  she  suppressed  anything  it 
was  probably  that  which  affected  Lance's 
secret  alone,  and  it  was  doubtful  how  much 
of  that  she  herself  knew.  In  her  own  affairs 
she  was  frank  without  being  communicative, 
and  never  lost  her  shy  obstinacy  even  with 
her  father.  Governing  the  old  man  as  com 
pletely  as  she  did,  she  appeared  most  embar 
rassed  when  she  was  most  dominant ;  she  had 


64        FLIP:  A    CALIFORNIA  ROMANCE. 

her  own  way  without  lifting  her  voice  or  her 
eyes  ;  she  seemed  oppressed  by  mauvaise  honte 
when  she  was  most  triumphant ;  she  would 
end  a  discussion  with  a  shy  murmur  addressed 
to  herself,  or  a  single  gesture  of  self-conscious 
ness. 

The  disclosure  of  her  strange  relations  with 
an  unknown  man,  and  the  exchange  of  pres 
ents  and  confidences  seemed  to  suddenly 
awake  Fairley  to  a  vague,  uneasy  sense  of 
some  unfulfilled  duties  as  a  parent.  The  first 
effect  of  this  on  his  weak  nature,  was  a  peevish 
antagonism  to  the  cause  of  it.  He  had  long, 
fretful  monologues  on  the  vanity  of  diamond- 
making,  if  accompanied  with  "  pestering  "  by 
"  interlopers ;  "  on  the  wickedness  of  conceal 
ment  and  conspiracy,  and  their  effects  on 
charcoal-burning ;  on  the  nurturing  of  spies 
and  "  adders  "  in  the  family  circle,  and  on  the 
seditiousness  of  dark  and  mysterious  councils 
in  which  a  gray-haired  father  was  left  out.  It 


FLIP:  A   CALIFORNIA  ROMANCE.       65 

was  true  that  a  word  or  look  from  Flip  gen 
erally  brought  these  monologues  to  an  inglo 
rious  and  abrupt  termination,  but  they  were 
none  the  less  lugubrious  as  long  as  they  lasted. 
In  time  they  were  succeeded  by  an  affectation 
of  contrite  apology  and  self-depreciation. 
"  Don't  go  out  o'  the  way  to  ask  the  old 
man,"  he  would  say,  referring  to  the  quantity 
of  bacon  to  be  ordered ;  "  it 's  nat'ral  a  young 
gal  should  have  her  own  advisers."  The  state 
of  the  flour  barrel  would  also  produce  a  like 
self-abasement;.  "  Unless  ye  're  already  in 
correspondence  about  more  flour,  ye  might 
take  the  opinion  o'  the  first  tramp  ye  meet  ez 
to  whether  Santa  Cruz  Mills  is  a  good  brand, 
but  don't  ask  the  old  man."  If  Flip  was  in 
conversation  with  the  butcher,  Fairley  would 
obtrusively  retire  with  the  hope  "  he  was  n't 
intrudin'  on  their  secrets." 

These  phases  of  her  father's  weakness  were 
not  frequent  enough  to  excite  her  alarm,  but 

5 


66        FLIP:  A   CALIFORNIA  ROMANCE. 

she  could  not  help  noticing  they  were  accom 
panied  with  a  seriousness  unusual  to  hini.^  He 
began  to  be  tremulously  watchful  of  her,  re 
turning  often  from  work  at  an  earlier  hour, 
and  lingering  by  the  cabin  in  the  morning. 
He  brought  absurd  and  useless  presents  for 
her,  and  presented  them  with  a  nervous  anx 
iety,  poorly  concealed  by  an  assumption  of 
careless,  paternal  generosity.  "  Suthin'  I 
picked  up  at  the  Crossin'  for  ye  to-day,"  he 
would  say,  airily,  and  retire  to  watch  the  ef 
fect  of  a  pair  of  shoes  two  sizes  too  large,  or  a 
fur  cap  in  September.  He  would  have  hired 
a  cheap  parlor  organ  for  her,  but  for  the 
apparently  unexpected  revelation  that  she 
could  n't  play.  He  had  received  the  news  of 
a  clue  to  his  long-lost  son  without  emotion, 
but  lately  he  seemed  to  look  upon  it  as  a  fore 
gone  conclusion,  and  one  that  necessarily 
solved  the  question  of  companionship  for 
Flip.  "  In  course,  when  you'  ve  got  your 


FLIP:  A   CALIFORNIA  ROMANCE.        67 

own  flesh  and  blood  with  ye,  ye  can't  go  fool- 
in'  around  with  strangers."  These  autumnal 
blossoms  of  affection,  I  fear,  came  too  late  for 
any  effect  upon  Flip,  precociously  matured  by 
her  father's  indifference  and  selfishness.  But 
she  was  good  humored,  and,  seeing  him  se 
riously  concerned,  gave  him  more  of  her  time, 
even  visited  him  in  the  sacred  seclusion  of  the 
"  diamond  pit,"  and  listened  with  far-off  eyes 
to  his  fitful  indictment  of  all  things  outside 
his  grimy  laboratory.  Much  of  this  patient 
indifference  came  with  a  capricious  change  in 
her  own  habits ;  she  no  longer  indulged  in 
the  rehearsal  of  dress,  she  packed  away  her 
most  treasured  garments,  and  her  leafy  bou 
doir  knew  her  no  more.  She  sometimes 
walked  on  the  hillside,  and  often  followed  the 
trail  she  had  taken  with  Lance  when  she  led 
him  to  the  ranch.  She  once  or  twice  ex 
tended  her  walk  to  the  spot  where  she  had 
parted  from  him,  and  as  often  came  shyly 


68       FLIP:  A   CALIFORNIA  ROMANCE. 

away,  her  eyes  downcast  and  her  face  warm 
with  color.  Perhaps  because  these  experi 
ences  and  some  mysterious  instinct  of  matur 
ing  womanhood  had  left  a  story  in  her  eyes, 
which  her  two  adorers,  the  Postmaster  and 
the  Butcher,  read  with  passion,  she  became 
famous  without  knowing  it.  Extravagant 
stories  of  her  fascinations  brought  strangers 
into  the  valley.  The  effect  upon  her  father 
may  be  imagined.  Lance  could  not  have  de 
sired  a  more  effective  guardian  than  he  proved 
to  be  in  this  emergency.  Those  who  had 
been  told  of  this  hidden  pearl  were  surprised 
to  find  it  so  jealously  protected. 


CHAPTER  V. 

THE  long,  parched  summer  had  drawn  to 
its  dusty  close.  Much  of  it  was  already  blown 
abroad  and  dissipated  on  trail  and  turnpike, 
or  crackled  in  harsh,  unelastic  fibres  on  hill 
side  and  meadow.  Some  of  it  had  disap 
peared  in  the  palpable  smoke  by  day  and  fiery 
crests  by  night  of  burning  forests.  The  be 
sieging  fogs  on  the  Coast  Range  daily  thinned 
their  hosts,  and.  at  last  vanished.  The  wind 
changed  from  northwest  to  southwest.  The 
salt  breath  of  the  sea  was  on  the  summit. 
And  then  one  day  the  staring,  unchanged  sky 
was  faintly  touched  with  remote  mysterious 
clouds,  and  grew  tremulous  in  expression. 
The  next  morning  dawned  upon  a  newer  face 
in  the  heavens,  on  changed  woods,  on  altered 


70         FLIP:  A   CALIFORNIA  ROMANCE. 

outlines,  on  vanished  crests,  on  forgotten  dis 
tances.  It  was  raining ! 

Four  weeks  of  this  change,  with  broken 
spaces  of  sunlight  and  intense  blue  aerial  is 
lands,  and  then  a  storm  set  in.  All  day  the 
summit  pines  and  redwoods  rocked  in  the 
blast.  At  times  the  onset  of  the  rain  seemed 
to  be  held  back  by  the  fury  of  the  gale,  or 
was  visibly  seen  in  sharp  waves  on  the  hill 
side.  Unknown  and  concealed  watercourses 
suddenly  overflowed  the  trails,  pools  became 
lakes  and  brooks  rivers.  Hidden  from  the 
storm,  the  sylvan  silence  of  sheltered  valleys 
was  broken  by  the  impetuous  rush  of  waters  ; 
even  the  tiny  streamlet  that  traversed  Flip's 
retreat  in  the  Gin  and  Ginger  Woods  became 
a  cascade. 

The  storm  drove  Fairley  from  his  couch 
early.  The  falling  of  a  large  tree  across  the 
trail,  and  the  sudden  overflow  of  a  small 
stream  beside  it,  hastened  his  steps.  But  he 


FLIP:  A   CALIFORNIA  ROMANCE.        71 

was  doomed  to  encounter  what  was  to  him  a 
more  disagreeable  object — a  human  figure. 
By  the  bedraggled  drapery  that  flapped  and 
fluttered  in  the  wind,  by  the  long,  unkempt 
hair  that  hid  the  face  and  eyes,  and  by  the 
grotesquely  misplaced  bonnet,  the  old  man 
recognized  one  of  his  old  trespassers,  —  an 
Indian  squaw. 

"  Clear  out  'er  that !  Come,  make  tracks, 
will  ye  ?  "  the  old  man  screamed ;  but  here 
the  wind  stopped  his  voice,  and  drove  him 
against  a  hazel  bush. 

44  Me  heap  sick,"  answered  the  squaw, 
shivering  through  her  muddy  shawl. 

"  I  '11  make  ye  a  heap  sicker  if  ye  don't 
vamose  the  ranch,"  continued  Fairley,  ad 
vancing. 

"  Me  wantee  Wangee  girl.  Wangee  girl 
give  me  heap  grub,"  said  the  squaw,  without 
moving. 

"  You  bet  your  life,"  groaned  the  old  man 


72         FLIP:  A    CALIFORNIA  ROMANCE. 

to  himself.  Nevertheless  an  idea  struck  him. 
"  Ye  ain't  brought  no  presents,  hev  ye  ?  "  he 
asked  cautiously.  "  Ye  ain't  got  no  pooty 
things  for  poor  Wangee  girl  ?  "  he  continued, 
insinuatingly. 

"Me  got  heap  cache  nuts  and  berries,"  said 
the  squaw. 

"  Oh,  in  course  !  in  course  !  That 's  just 
it,"  screamed  Fairley  ;  "  you  've  got  'em  cached 
only  two  mile  from  yer,  and  you'll  go  and 
get  'em  for  a  half  dollar,  cash  down." 

"  Me  bring  Wangee  girl  to  cache"  replied 
the  Indian,  pointing  to  the  wood.  "  Honest 
Injin." 

Another  bright  idea  struck  Mr.  Fairley. 
But  it  required  some  elaboration.  Hurrying 
the  squaw  with  him  through  the  pelting  rain, 
he  reached  the  shelter  of  the  corral.  Vainly 
the  shivering  aborigine  drew  her  tightly  ban 
daged  papoose  closer  to  her  square,  flat  breast, 
and  looked  longingly  toward  the  cabin;  tho 


FLIP:  A    CALIFORNIA  ROMANCE.         73 

old  man  backed  her  against  the  palisade. 
Here  he  cautiously  imparted  his  dark  inten 
tions  to  employ  her  to  keep  watch  and  ward 
over  the  ranch,  and  especially  over  its  young 
mistress  —  "  clear  out  all  the  tramps  'ceptin' 
yourself,  and  I  '11  keep  ye  in  grub  and  rum." 
Many  and  deliberate  repetitions  of  this  offer 
in  various  forms  at  last  seemed  to  affect  the 
squaw ;  she  nodded  violently,  and  echoed  the 
last  word  "  rum."  "  Now,"  she  added.  The 
old  man  hesitated ;  she  was  in  possession  of 
his  secret;  he  groaned,  and,  promising  an  im 
mediate  installment  of  liquor,  led  her  to  the 
cabin. 

The  door  was  so  securely  fastened  against 
the  impact  of  the  storm  that  some  moments 
elapsed  before  the  bar  was  drawn,  and  the  old 
man  had  become  impatient  and  profane. 
When  it  was  partly  opened  by  Flip  he  hastily 
slipped  in,  dragging  the  squaw  after  him,  and 
cast  one  single  suspicious  glance  around  the 


74        FLIP:  A   CALIFORNIA  ROMANCE. 

rude  apartment  which  served  as  a  sitting-room. 
Flip  had  apparently  been  writing.  A  small 
inkstand  was  still  on  the  board  table,  but  her 
paper  had  evidently  been  concealed  before 
she  allowed  them  to  enter.  The  squaw  in 
stantly  squatted  before  the  adobe  hearth, 
warmed  her  bundled  baby,  and  left  the  cer 
emony  of  introduction  to  her  companion. 
Flip  regarded  the  two  with  calm  preoccupa 
tion  and  indifference.  The  only  thing  that 
touched  her  interest  was  the  old  squaw's 
draggled  skirt  and  limp  neckerchief.  They 
were  Flip's  own,  long  since  abandoned  and 
cast  off  in  the  Gin  and  Ginger  Woods.  "  Se 
crets  again,"  whined  Fairley,  still  eying  Flip 
furtively.  "  Secrets  again,  in  course  —  in 
course — jiss  so.  Secrets  that  must  be  kep 
from  the  ole  man.  Dark  doin's  by  one's  own 
flesh  and  blood.  Go  on  !  go  on  !  Don't 
mind  me."  Flip  did  not  reply.  She  had 
even  lost  the  interest  in  her  old  dress.  Per- 


FLIP:  A    CALIFORNIA  ROMANCE.         75 

haps  it  had  only  touched  some  note  in  unison 
with  her  revery. 

"  Can  't  ye  get  the  poor  critter  some  whis 
key  ?  "  he  queried,  fretfully.  "  Ye  used  to  be 
peart  enuff  before."  As  Flip  turned  to  the 
corner  to  lift  the  demijohn,  Fairley  took 
occasion  to  kick  the  squaw  with  his  foot,  and 
indicate  by  extravagant  pantomime  that  the 
bargain  was  not  to  be  alluded  to  before  the 
girl.  Flip  poured  out  some  whiskey  in  a  tin 
cup,  and,  approaching  the  squaw,  handed  it 
to  her.  "  It 's  like  ez  not,"  continued  Fairley 
to  his  daughter,  but  looking  at  the  squaw, 
"  that  she  '11  be  huntin'  the  woods  off  and 
on,  and  kinder  looking  after  the  last  pit  near 
the  Madronos  ;  ye '11  give  her  grub  and  licker 
ez  she  likes.  Well,  d'  ye  hear,  Flip  ?  Are 
ye  moonin  '  agin  with  yer  secrets  ?  What 's 
gone  with  ye  ?  " 

If  the  child  were  dreaming,  it  was  a  de 
licious  dream.  Her  magnetic  eyes  were  suf- 


76         FLIP:  A    CALIFORNIA  ROMANCE. 

fused  by  a  strange  light,  as  though  the  eye 
itself  had  blushed ;  her  full  pulse  showed  it 
self  more  in  the  rounding  outline  of  her  cheek 
than  in  any  deepening  of  color ;  indeed,  if 
there  was  any  heightening  of  tint,  it  was  in 
her  freckles,  which  fairly  glistened  like  tiny 
spangles.  Her  eyes  were  downcast,  her  shoul 
ders  slightly  bent,  but  her  voice  was  low  and 
clear  and  thoughtful  as  ever. 

"  One  o'  the  big  pines  above  the  Madrono 
pit  has  blown  over  into  the  run,"  she  said. 
"  It 's  choked  up  the  water,  acid  it 's  risin' 
fast.  Like  ez  not  it 's  pourin'  over  into  the 
pit  by  this  time." 

The  old  man  rose  with  a  fretful  cry.  "  And 
why  in  blazes  didn't  you  say  so  first?"  he 
screamed,  catching  up  his  axe  and  rushing  to 
the  door. 

"  Ye  did  n't  give  me  a  chance,"  said  Flip, 
raising  her  eyes  for  the  first  time.  With  an 
impatient  imprecation,  Faiiiey  darted  by  her 


FLIP:  A   CALIFORNIA  ROMANCE.        11 

and  rushed  into  the  wood.  In  an  instant  she 
had  shut  the  door  and  bolted  it.  In  the  same 
instant  the  squaw  arose,  dashed  the  long  hair 
not  only  from  her  eyes,  but  from  her  head, 
tore  away  her  shawl  and  blanket,  and  re 
vealed  the  square  shoulders  of  Lance  Har 
riott  I  Flip  remained  leaning  against  the 
door  ;  but  the  young  man  in  rising  dropped 
the  bandaged  papoose,  which  rolled  from  his 
lap  into  the  fire.  Flip,  with  a  cry,  sprang  to 
ward  it ;  but  Lance  caught  her  by  the  waist 
with  one  arm,  as  with  the  other  he  dragged 
the  bundle  from  the  flames. 

"  Don't  be  alarmed,"  he  said,  gayly,  "  it 's 
only"  — 

"  What  ?  "  said  Flip,  trying  to  disengage 
herself. 

"  My  coat  and  trousers." 

Flip  laughed,  which  encouraged  Lance  to 
another  attempt  to  kiss  her.  She  evaded  it 
by  diving  her  head  into  his  waistcoat,  and 
saying,  "  There  's  father." 


78        FLIP:  A   CALIFORNIA  ROMANCE. 

"  But  he  's  gone  to  clear  away  that  tree  ?  " 
suggested  Lance. 

One  of  Flip's  significant  silences  followed. 

"  Oh,  I  see,"  he  laughed.  "  That  was  a 
plan  to  get  him  away  !  Ah  !  "  She  had  re 
leased  herself. 

"  Why  did  you  come  like  that  ?  "  she  said, 
pointing  to  his  wig  and  blanket. 

"  To  see  if  you'd  know  me,"  he  responded. 

"  No,"  said  Flip,  dropping  her  eyes.  "  It 's 
to  keep  other  people  from  knowing  you. 
You  're  hidin'  agin."  , 

"  I  am,"  returned  Lance ;  "  but,"  he  inter 
rupted,  "  it 's  only  the  same  old  thing." 

"But  you  wrote  from  Monterey  that  it  was 
all  over,"  she  persisted. 

"  So  it  would  have  been,"  he  said  gloomily, 
"  but  for  some  dog  down  here  who  is  hunting 
up  an  old  scent.  I  '11  spot  him  yet,  and  "  —  He 
stopped  suddenly,  with  such  utter  abstraction 
of  hatred  in  his  fixed  and  glittering  eyes  that 


FLIP:  A   CALIFORNIA  ROMANCE.        79 

she  almost  feared  him.  She  laid  her  hand 
quite  unconsciously  on  his  arm.  He  grasped 
it ;  his  face  changed. 

"I  couldn't  wait  any  longer  to  see  you, 
Flip,  so  I  came  here  anyway,"  he  went  on. 
"  I  thought  to  hang  round  and  get  a  chance 
to  speak  to  you  first,  when  I  fell  afoul  of  the 
old  man.  He  did  n't  know  me,  and  tumbled 
right  in  my  little  game.  Why,  do  you  believe 
he  wants  to  hire  me  for  my  grub  and  liquor, 
to  act  as  a  sort  of  sentry  over  you  and  the 
ranch?"  And  here  he  related  with  great 
gusto  the  substance  of  his  interview.  "I 
reckon  as  he  's  that  suspicious,"  he  concluded, 
"  I  'd  better  play  it  out  now  as  I  've  begun, 
only  it 's  mighty  hard  I  can't  see  you  here 
before  the  fire  in  your  fancy  toggery,  Flip,  but 
must  dodge  in  and  out  of  the  wet  underbrush 
in  these  yer  duds  of  yours  that  I  picked  up  in 
the  old  place  in  the  Gin  and  Ginger  Woods." 

"Then  you  came  here  just  to  see  me?" 
asked  Flip. 


80         FLIP:  A   CALIFORNIA  ROMANCE. 

"I  did." 

"For  only  that?" 

"  Only  that." 

Flip  dropped  her  eyes.  Lance  had  got  his 
other  arm  around  her  waist,  but  her  resisting 
little  hand  was  still  potent. 

"  Listen,"  she  said  at  last  without  looking 
up,  but  apparently  talking  to  the  intruding 
arm,  "when  Dad  comes  I  '11  get  him  to  send 
you  to  watch  the  diamond  pit.  It  isn't  far; 
it 's  warm,  and"  — 

"What?" 

"  I  '11  come,  after  a  bit,  and  see  yon.  Quit 
foolin'  now.  If  you  'd  only  have  come  here 
like  yourself  —  like  —  like  —  a  white  man." 

"  The  old  man,"  interrupted  Lance,  "would 
have  just  passed  me  on  to  the  summit.  I 
couldn't  have  played  the  lost  fisherman  on 
him  at  this  time  of  year.'* 

"  Ye  could  have  been  stopped  at  the  Cross 
ing  by  high  water,  you  silly,"  said  the  girl. 


FLIP:  A    CALIFORNIA  ROMANCE.         81 

"It  was."  This  grammatical  obscurity  re 
ferred  to  the  stage  coach. 

"  Yes,  but  I  might  have  been  tracked  to  this 
cabin.  And  look  here,  Flip,"  he  said,  sud 
denly  straightening  himself,  and  lifting  the 
girl's  face  to  a  level  with  his  own,  "I  don't 
want  you  to  lie  any  more  for  me.  It  ain't 
right." 

"  All  right.  Ye  need  n't  go  to  the  pit,  then, 
and  I  won't  come." 

"  Flip ! " 

"  And  here 's  Dad  coming.     Quick !  " 

Lance  chose  to  put  his  own  interpretation 
on  this  last  adjuration.  The  resisting  little 
hand  was  now  lying  quite  limp  on  his  shoul 
der.  He  drew  her  brown,  bright  face  near 
his  own,  felt  her  spiced  breath  on  his  lips,  his 
cheeks,  his  hot  eyelids,  his  swimming  eyes, 
kissed  her,  hurriedly  replaced  his  wig  and 
blanket,  and  dropped  beside  the  fire  with  the 
tremulous  laugh  of  youth  and  innocent  first 

6 


82        FLIP:  A    CALIFORNIA  ROMANCE. 

passion.  Flip  had  withdrawn  to  the  window, 
and  was  looking  out  upon  the  rocking  pines. 

"  He  don't  seem  to  be  coming,"  said  Lance, 
with  a  half -shy  laugh. 

"No,"  responded  Flip  demurely,  pressing 
her  hot  oval  cheek  against  the  wet  panes ;  "  I 
reckon  I  was  mistaken.  You  're  sure,"  she 
added,  looking  resolutely  another  way,  but 
still  trembling  like  a  magnetic  needle  toward 
Lance,  as  he  moved  slightly  before  the  fire, 
"  you  're  sure  you  'd  like  me  to  come  to  you  ?  " 

"  Sure,  Flip  ?  " 

"  Hush  !  "  said  Flip,  as  this  reassuring  query 
of  reproachful  astonishment  appeared  about 
to  be  emphasized  by  a  forward  amatory  dash 
of  Lance's ;  "  hush  !  he  's  coining  this  time, 
sure." 

It  was,  indeed,  Fairley,  exceedingly  wet, 
exceedingly  bedraggled,  exceedingly  sponged 
out  as  to  color,  and  exceedingly  profane.  It 
appeared  that  there  was,  indeed,  a  tree  that 


FLIP:  A    CALIFORNIA  ROMANCE.        83 

had  fallen  in  the  "  run,"  but  that,  far  from 
diverting  the  overflow  into  the  pit,  it  had  es 
tablished  "back  water,"  which  had  forced 
another  outlet.  All  this  might  have  been 
detected  at  once  by  any  human  intellect  not 
distracted  by  correspondence  with  strangers, 
and  enfeebled  by  habitually  scorning  the  in 
tellect  of  its  own  progenitor.  This  reckless 
selfishness  had  further  only  resulted  in  giving 
"rheumatics"  to  that  progenitor,  who  now 
required  the  external  administration  of  opo 
deldoc  to  his  limbs,  and  the  internal  adminis 
tration  of  whiskey.  Having  thus  spoken,  Mr. 
Fairley,  with  great  promptitude  and  infantine 
simplicity,  at  once  bared  two  legs  of  entirely 
different  colors  and  mutely  waited  for  his 
daughter  to  rub  them.  If  Flip  did  this  all 
unconsciously,  and  with  the  mechanical  dex 
terity  of  previous  habit,  it  was  because  she 
did  not  quite  understand  the  savage  eyes  and 
impatient  gestures  of  Lance  in  his  encom- 


84        FLIP:  A   CALIFORNIA  ROMANCE. 

passing  wig  and  blanket,  and  because  it  helped 
her  to  voice  her  thought. 

"  Ye  '11  never  be  able  to  take  yer  watch  at 
the  diamond  pit  to-night,  Dad,"  she  said ; 
"  and  I  've  been  reck'nin'  you  might  set  the 
squaw  there  instead.  I  can  show  her  what 
to  do." 

But  to  Flip's  momentary  discomfiture,  her 
father  promptly  objected.  "  Mebbee  I  've 
got  suthin'  else  for  her  to  do.  Mebbee  I  may 
have  my  secrets,  too  —  eh?"  he  said,  with 
dark  significance,  at  the  same  time  adminis 
tering  a  significant  nudge  to  Lance,  which 
kept  up  the  young  man's  exasperation.  "  No, 
she  '11  rest  yer  a  bit  just  now.  I  '11  set  her  to 
watchin'  suthin'  else,  like  as  not,  when  I  want 
her."  Flip  fell  into  one  of  her  suggestive 
silences.  Lance  watched  her  earnestly,  mol 
lified  by  a  single  furtive  glance  from  her  sig 
nificant  eyes;  the  rain  dashed  against  the 
windows,  and  occasionally  spattered  and 


FLIP:  A    CALIFORNIA  ROMANCE.        85 

hissed  in  the  hearth  of  the  broad  chimney, 
and  Mr.  David  Fairley,  somewhat  assuaged 
by  the  internal  administration  of  whiskey, 
grew  more  loquacious.  The  genius  of  incon 
gruity  and  inconsistency  which  generally  ruled 
his  conduct  came  out  with  freshened  vigor 
under  the  'gentle  stimulation  of  spirit.  "  On 
an  evening  like  this,"  he  began,  comfortably 
settling  himself  on  the  floor  beside  the  chim 
ney,  "  ye  might  rig  yerself  out  in  them  new 
duds  and  fancy  fixin's  that  that  Sacramento 
shrimp  sent  ye,  and  let  your  own  flesh  and 
blood  see  ye.  If  that 's  too  much  to  do  for 
your  old  dad,  ye  might  do  it  to  please  that 
digger  squaw  as  a  Christian  act."  Whether 
in  the  hidden  depths  of  the  old  man's  con 
sciousness  there  was  a  feeling  of  paternal 
vanity  in  showing  this  wretched  aborigine  the 
value  and  importance  of  the  treasure  she  was 
about  to  guard,  I  cannot  say.  Flip  darted  an 
interrogatory  look  at  Lance,  who  nodded  a 


86        FLIP:  A   CALIFORNIA  ROMANCE. 

quiet  assent,  and  she  flew  into  the  inner  room. 
She  did  not  linger  on  the  details  of  her  toilet, 
but  reappeared  almost  the  next  moment  in 
her  new  finery,  buttoning  the  neck  of  her 
gown  as  she  entered  the  room,  and  chastely 
stopping  at  the  window  to  characteristically 
pull  up  her  stocking.  The  peculiarity  of  her 
situation  increased  her  usual  shyness ;  she 
played  with  the  black  and  gold  beads  of  a 
handsome  necklace,  —  Lance's  last  gift,  —  as 
the  merest  child  might ;  her  unbuckled  shoe 
gave  the  squaw  a  natural  opportunity  of  show 
ing  her  admiration  and  devotion  by  insisting 
upon  buckling  it,  and  gave  Lance,  under  that 
disguise,  an  opportunity  of  covertly  kissing 
the  little  foot  and  ankle  in  the  shadow  of  the 
chimney ;  an  event  which  provoked  slight 
hysterical  symptoms  in  Flip,  and  caused  her 
to  sit  suddenly  down  in  spite  of  the  remon 
strances  of  her  parent.  "  Ef  you  can't  quit 
gigglin'  and  squirmin'  like  an  Injin  baby 


FLIP:  A    CALIFORNIA  ROMANCE.        87 

yourself,  ye  'd  better  git  rid  o'  them  duds," 
he  ejaculated  with  peevish  scorn. 

Yet,  under  this  perfunctory  rebuke,  his 
weak  vanity  could  not  be  hidden,  and  he  en 
joyed  the  evident  admiration  of  a  creature 
whom  he  believed  to  be  half-witted  and  de 
graded  all  the  more  keenly  because  it  did  not 
make  him  jealous.  She  could  not  take  Flip 
from  him.  Rendered  garrulous  by  liquor,  he 
went  to  voice  his  contempt  for  those  who 
might  attempt  it.  Taking  advantage  of  his 
daughter's  absence  to  resume  her  homely  gar 
ments,  he  whispered  confidentially  to  Lance,  — 

"  Ye  see  these  yer  fine  dresses,  ye  might 
think  is  presents.  Pr'aps  Flip  lets  on  they 
are?  Pr'aps  she  don't  know  any  better.  But 
they  ain't  presents.  They  're  only  samples  o' 
dressmaking  and  jewelry  that  a  vain,  con 
ceited  shrimp  of  a  feller  up  in  Sacramento 
sends  down  here  to  get  customers  for.  In 
course  I  'm  to  pay  for  'em.  In  course  he 


88        FLIP:  A   CALIFORNIA  ROMANCE. 

reckons  I  'm  to  do  it.  In  course  I  calkilate 
to  do  it ;  but  he  need  n't  try  to  play  'em  off 
as  presents.  He  talks  suthin'  o'  coming  down 
here,  sportin'  hisself  off  on  Flip  as  a  fancy 
buck !  Not  ez  long  ez  the  old  man  's  here, 
you  bet."  Thoroughly  carried  away  by  his 
fancied  wrongs,  it  was  perhaps  fortunate  that 
he  did  not  observe  the  flashing  eyes  of  Lance 
behind  his  lank  and  lustreless  wig ;  but  see 
ing  only  the  figure  of  Lance,  as  he  had  con 
jured  him,  he  went  on  :  "  That 's  why  I  want 
you  to  hang  around  her.  Hang  around  her 
on  til  my  boy,  —  him  that 's  comin'  home  on  a 
visit,  —  gets  here,  and  I  reckon  he  '11  clear  out 
that  yar  Sacramento  counter-jumper.  Only 
let  me  get  a  sight  o'  him  afore  Flip  does.  Eh  ? 
D'ye  hear?  Dog  my  skin  if  I  don't  believe 
the  d — d  Injin  's  drunk."  It  was  fortunate 
that  at  that  moment  Flip  reappeared,  and, 
dropping  on  the  hearth  between  her  father 
and  the  infuriated  Lance,  let  her  hand  slip  in 


FLIP:  A   CALIFORNIA  ROMANCE.        89 

his  with  a  warning  pressure.  The  light  touch 
momentarily  recalled  him  to  himself  and  her, 
but  not  until  the  quick-witted  girl  had  had 
revealed  to  her  in  one  startled  wave  of  con 
sciousness,  the  full  extent  of  Lance's  infirmity 
of  temper.  With  the  instinct  of  awakened 
tenderness  came  a  sense  of  responsibility,  and 
a  vague  premonition  of  danger.  The  coy 
blossom  of  her  heart  was  scarce  unfolded 
before  it  was  chilled  by  approaching  shadows. 
Fearful  of,  she  knew  not  what,  she  hesitated. 
Every  moment  of  Lance's  stay  was  imper 
iled  by  a  single  word  that  might  spring  from 
his  suppressed  white  lips  ;  beyond  and  above 
the  suspicions  his  sudden  withdrawal  might 
awaken  in  her  father's  breast,  she  was  dimly 
conscious  of  some  mysterious  terror  without 
that  awaited  him.  She  listened  to  the  furious 
onslaught  of  the  wind  upon  the  sycamores 
beside  their  cabin,  and  thought  she  heard  it 
there ;  she  listened  to  the  sharp  fusillade  of 


90        FLIP:  A   CALIFORNIA  ROMANCE. 

rain  upon  roof  and  pane,  and  the  turbulent 
roar  and  rush  of  leaping  mountain  torrents  at 
their  very  feet,  and  fancied  it  was  there.  She 
suddenly  sprang  to  the  window,  and,  pressing 
her  eyes  to  the  pane,  saw  through  the  misty 
turmoil  of  tossing  boughs  and  swaying 
branches  the  scintillating  intermittent  flames 
of  torches  moving  on  the  trail  above,  and 
knew  it  was  there  ! 

In  an  instant  she  was  collected  and  calm. 
"  Dad,"  she  said,  in  her  ordinary  indifferent 
tone,  "  there  's  torches  movin'  i\p  toward  the 
diamond  pit.  Likely  it 's  tramps.  I  '11  take 
the  squaw  and  see."  And  before  the  old  man 
could  stagger  to  his  feet  she  had  dragged 
Lance  with  her  into  the  road. 


CHAPTER    VI. 

THE  wind  charged  down  upon  them,  slam 
ming  the  door  at  their  backs,  extinguishing 
the  broad  shaft  of  light  that  had  momentarily 
shot  out  into  the  darkness,  and  swept  them  a 
dozen  yards  away.  Gaining  the  lee  of  a  ma 
drono  tree,  Lance  opened  his  blanketed  arms, 
enfolded  the  girl,  and  felt  her  for  one  brief 
moment  tremble  and  nestle  in  his  bosom  like 
some  frightened  animal.  "  Well,"  he  said, 
gayly,  "what  next?  "  Flip  recovered  herself. 
"  You  're  safe  now  anywhere  outside  the 
house.  But  did  you  expect  them  to-night  ?  " 
Lance  shrugged  his  shoulders.  "  Why  not  ?  " 
"  Hush !  "  returned  the  girl ;  "  they  're  coming 
this  way." 
The  four  flickering,  scattered  lights  presently 


92        FLIP:  A   CALIFORNIA  ROMANCE. 

dropped  into  line.  The  trail  had  been  found  ; 
they  were  coming  nearer.  Flip  breathed 
quickly ;  the  spiced  aroma  of  her  presence 
filled  the  blanket  as  he  drew  her  tightly  be 
side  him.  He  had  forgotten  the  storm  that 
raged  around  them,  the  mysterious  foe  that 
was  approaching,  until  Flip  caught  his  sleeve 
with  a  slight  laugh.  "  Why,  it 's  Kennedy 
and  Bijah  ?  " 

"  Who  's  Kennedy  and  Bijah  ?  "  asked 
Lance,  curtly. 

"  Kennedy  's  the  Postmaster  and  Bijah  's 
the  Butcher." 

"  What  do  they  want?  "  continued  Lance. 

"  Me,"  said  Flip,  coyly. 

"  You  ?  " 

u  Yes  ;  let 's  run  away." 

Half  leading,  half  dragging  her  friend,  Flip 
made  her  way  with  unerring  woodcraft  down 
the  ravine.  The  sound  of  voices  and  even 
the  tumult  of  the  storm  became  fainter,  an 


FLIP:  A   CALIFORNIA  ROMANCE.        93 

acrid  smell  of  burning  green  wood  smarted 
Lance's  lips  and  eyes  ;  in  the  midst  of  the 
darkness  beneath  him  gradually  a  faint,  gi 
gantic  nimbus  like  a  lurid  eye  glowed  and 
sank,  quivered  and  faded  with  the  spent 
breath  of  the  gale  as  it  penetrated  their  re 
treat.  "The  pit,"  whispered  Flip;  "it's 
safe  on  the  other  side,"  she  added,  cautiously 
skirting  the  orbit  of  the  great  eye,  and  lead 
ing  him  to  a  sheltered  nest  of  bark  and  saw 
dust.  It  was  warm  and  odorous.  Neverthe 
less,  they  both  deemed  it  necessary  to  enwrap 
themselves  in  the  single  blanket.  The  eye 
beamed  fitfully  upon  them,  occasionally  a 
wave  of  lambent  tremulousness  passed  across 
it ;  its  weirdness  was  an  excuse  for  their  draw 
ing  nearer  each  other  in  playful  terror. 

"  Flip." 

"  Well  ?  " 

"  What  did  the  other  two  want  ?  To  see 
you,  tool"' 


94        FLIP:  A  CALIFORNIA  ROMANCE. 

"  Likely,"  said  Flip,  without  the  least  trace 
of  coquetry.  "  There  's  been  a  lot  of  stran 
gers  yer,  off  and  on." 

"  Perhaps  you  'd  like  to  go  back  and  see 
them  ?  " 

"  Do  you  want  me  to?  " 

Lance's  reply  was  a  kiss.  Nevertheless  he 
was  vaguely  uneasy.  "  Looks  a  little  as  if  I 
were  running  away,  don't  it  ?  "  he  suggested. 

"No,"  said  Flip;  "they  think  you're  only 
a  squaw  ;  it 's  me  they  're  "after."  Lance 
smarted  a  little  at  this  infelicitous  speech.  A 
strange  and  irritating  sensation  had  been 
creeping  over  him —  it  was  his  first  experi 
ence  of  shame  and  remorse.  "  I  reckon  I  '11 
go  back  and  see,"  he  said,  rising  abruptly. 

Flip  was  silent.  She  was  thinking.  Be 
lieving  that  the  men  were  seeking  her  only, 
she  knew  that  their  attention  would  be  di 
rected  from  her  companion  when  it  was  found 
out  he  was  no  longer  .with  her,  and  she 


FLIP:  A   CALIFORNIA  ROMANCE.         95 

dreaded  to  meet  them  in  his  irritable  pres 
ence. 

"  Go,"  she  said,  "  tell  Dad  something  's 
gone  wrong  in  the  diamond  pit,  and  say  I  'm 
watching  it  for  him  here." 

"  And  you  ?  " 

"  I  '11  go  there  and  wait  for  him.  If  he 
can't  get  rid  of  them,  and  they  follow  him 
there,  I  '11  come  back  here  and  meet  you. 
Anyhow,  I  '11  manage  to  have  Dad  wait  there 
a  spell." 

She  took  his  hand  and  led  him  back  by  a 
different  path  to  the  trail.  He  was  surprised 
to  find  that  the  cabin,  its  window  glowing 
from  the  fire,  was  only  a  hundred  yards  away. 
"  Go  in  the  back  way,  by  the  shed.  Don't  go 
in  the  room,  nor  near  the  light,  if  you  can. 
Don't  talk  inside,  but  call  or  beckon  to  Dad. 
Remember,"  she  said,  with  a  laugh,  "you're 
keeping  watch  of  me  for  him.  Pull  your  hair 
down  on  your  eyes  so."  This  operation,  like 


96         FLIP:  A    CALIFORNIA  ROMANCE. 

most  feminine  embellishments  of  the  mascu 
line  toilet  was  attended  by  a  kiss,  and  Flip, 
stepping  back  into  the  shadow,  vanished  in 
the  storm. 

Lance's  first  movements  were  inconsistent 
with  his  assumed  sex.  He  picked  up  his 
draggled  skirt,  and  drew  a  bowie  knife  from 
his  boot.  From  his  bosom  he  took  a  revolver, 
turning  the  chambers  noiselessly  as  he  felt  the 
caps.  He  then  crept  toward  the  cabin  softly 
and  gained  the  shed.  It  was  quite  dark  but 
for  a  pencil  of  light  piercing  a^  crack  of  the 
rude,  ill-fitting  door  that  opened  on  the  sit 
ting  room.  A  single  voice  not  unfamiliar  to 
him,  raised  in  half-brutal  triumph,  greeted  his 
ears.  A  name  was  mentioned  —  his  own! 
His  angry  hand  was  on  the  latch.  One  mo 
ment  more  and  he  would  have  burst  the  door, 
but  in  that  instant  another  name  was  uttered 
—  a  name  that  dropped  his  hand  from  the 
latch  and  the  blood  from  his  cheeks.  He 


FLIP:  A   CALIFORNIA  ROMANCE.        97 

staggered  backward,  passed  his  hand  swiftly 
across  his  forehead,  recovered  himself  with  a 
gesture  of  mingled  rage  and  despair,  and,  sink 
ing  on  his  knees  beside  the  door,  pressed  his 
hot  temples  against  the  crack. 

"Do  I  know  Lance  Harriott ?"  said  the 

voice.  "  Do  I  know  the  d d  ruffian  ? 

Did  n't  I  hunt  him  a  year  ago  into  the  brush 
three  miles  from  the  Crossing  ?  Didn't  we  lose 
sight  of  him  the  very  day  he  turned  up  yer  at 
this  ranch,  and  got  smuggled  over  into  Mon 
terey  ?  Ain't  it  the  same  man  as  killed 
Arkansaw  Bob  —  Bob  Ridley  —  the  name  he 
went  by  in  Sonora  ?  And  who  was  Bob  Rid 
ley,  eh?  Who?  Why,  you  d d  old  fool, 

it  was  Bob  Fairley  —  YOUR  SON  !  " 

The  old  man's  voice  rose  querulous  and  in 
distinct. 

"  What  are  ye  talkin'  about?"  interrupted 
the  first  speaker.  "  I  tell  you  I  know.  Look 
at  these  pictures.  I  found  'em  on  his  body. 
7 


98        FLIP:  A   CALIFORNIA  ROMANCE. 

Look  at  'em.  Pictures  of  you  and  your  girl. 
Pr'aps  you  '11  deny  them.  Pr'aps  you  '11  tell 
me  I  lie  when  I  tell  you  he  told  me  he  was  your 
son  ;  told  me  how  he  ran  away  from  you;  how 
you  were  livin'  somewhere  in  the  mountains 
makin'  gold,  or  suthin'  else,  outer  charcoal. 
He  told  me  who  he  was  as  a  secret.  He 
never  let  on  he  told  it  to  any  one  else.  And 
when  I  found  that  the  man  who  killed  him, 
Lance  Harriott,  had  been  hidin'  here,  had 
been  sendin'  spies  all  around  to  find  out  all 
about  your  son,  had  been  foolin'  you  and  try- 
in'  to  ruin  your  gal  as  he  had  killed  your  boy, 
I  knew  that  he  knew  it  too." 

«  LIAB  ! " 

The  door  fell  in  with  a  crash.  There  was 
the  sudden  apparition  of  a  demoniac  face,  still 
half  hidden  by  the  long  trailing  black  locks  of 
hair  that  curled  like  Medusa's  around  it.  A 
cry  of  terror  filled  the  room.  Three  of  the 
men  dashed  from  the  door  and  fled  precipitate- 


FLIP:  A    CALIFORNIA  ROMANCE.         99 

ly.  The  man  who  had  spoken  sprang  toward 
his  rifle  in  the  chimney  corner.  But  the  move 
ment  was  his  last ;  a  blinding  flash  and  shat 
tering  report  interposed  between  him  and  his 
weapon.  The  impulse  carried  him  forward 
headlong  into  the  fire,  that  hissed  and  splut 
tered  with  his  blood,  and  Lance  Harriott  with 
his  smoking  pistol,  strode  past  him  to  the  door. 
Already  far  down  the  trail  there  were  hurried 
voices,  the  crack  and  crackling  of  impending 
branches  growing  fainter  and  fainter  in  the 
distance.  Lance  turned  back  to  the  solitary 
living  figure  —  the  old  man. 

Yet  he  might  have  been  dead  too,  he  sat  so 
rigid  and  motionless,  his  fixed  eyes  staring 
vacantly  at  the  body  on  the  hearth.  Before 
him  on  the  table  lay  the  cheap  photographs, 
one  evidently  of  himself,  taken  in  some  remote 
epoch  of  complexion,  one  of  a  child  which 
Lance  recognized  as  Flip. 

"  Tell  me,"  said  Lance  hoarsely,  laying  his 


100      FLIP:  A    CALIFORNIA  ROMANCE. 

quivering  hand  on  the  table,  "  was  Bob  Ridley 
your  son  ?  " 

"  My-  son,"  echoed  the  old  man  in  a  strange, 
far-off  voice,  without  turning  his  eyes  from 
the  corpse  —  "  My  son  —  is  —  is  —  is  there !  " 
pointing  to  the  dead  man.  "  Hush  !  Did  n't 
he  tell  you  so  ?  Didn't  you  hear  him  say  it  ? 
Dead  —  dead  —  shot  —  shot !  " 

"  Silence  !  are  you  crazy,  man  ?  "  repeated 
Lance,  tremblingly  ;  "  that  is  not  Bob  Ridley, 
but  a  dog,  a  coward,  a  liar  gone  to  his  reck 
oning.  Hear  me  !  If  your  son  was  Bob  Rid 
ley,  I  swear  to  God  I  never  knew  it,  now  or  — 
or  —  then.  Do  you  hear  me?  Tell  me  !  Do 
you  believe  me  ?  Speak  !  You  shall  speak." 

He  laid  his  hand  almost  menacingly  on  the 
old  man's  shoulder.  Fairley  slowly  raised  his 
head.  Lance  fell  back  with  a  groan  of  horror. 
The  weak  lips  were  wreathed  with  a  feeble  im 
ploring  smile,  but  the  eyes  wherein  the  fretful, 
peevish,  suspicious  spirit  had  dwelt  were  blank 


FLIP:  A    CALIFORNIA  ROMANCE.      101 

and  tenantless ;  the  flickering  intellect  that 
had  lit  them  was  blown  out  and  vanished. 

Lance  walked  toward  the  door  and  remained 
motionless  for  a  moment,  gazing  into  the  night. 
When  he  turned  back  again  toward  the  fire  his 
face  was  as  colorless  as  the  dead  man's  on  the 
hearth ;  the  fire  of  passion  was  gone  from  his 
beaten  eyes ;  his  step  was  hesitating  and  slow. 
He  went  up  to  the  table. 

"  I  say,  old  man,"  he  said,  with  a  strange 
smile  and  an  odd,  premature  suggestion  of  the 
infinite  weariness  of  death  in  his  voice,  "  you 
wouldn't  mind  giving  me  this,  would  you  ?  " 
and  he  took  up  the  picture  of  Flip.  The  old 
man  nodded  repeatedly.  "  Thank  you,"  said 
Lance.  He  went  to  the  door,  paused  a  mo 
ment,  and  returned.  "  Good-by,  old  man," 
he  said,  holding  out  his  hand.  Fairley  took 
it  with  a  childish  smile.  "  He  's  dead,"  said 
the  old  man  softly,  holding  Lance's  hand,  but 
pointing  to  the  hearth.  "  Yes,"  said  Lance, 


102      FLIP:  A   CALIFORNIA  ROMANCE. 

with  the  faintest  of  smiles  on  the  palest  of 
faces.  "  You  feel  sorry  for  any  one  that 's 
dead,  don't  you  ? "  Fairley  nodded  again. 
Lance  looked  at  him  with  eyes  as  remote  as 
his  own,  shook  his  head,  and  turned  away. 
When  he  reached  the  door  he  laid  his  revolver 
carefully,  and,  indeed,  somewhat  ostenta 
tiously,  upon  a  chair.  But  when  he  stepped 
from  the  threshold  he  stopped  a  moment  in 
the  light  of  the  open  door  to  examine  the  lock 
of  a  small  derringer  which  he  drew  from  his 
pocket.  He  then  shut  the  door  carefully,  and 
with  the  same  slow,  hesitating  step,  felt  his 
way  into  the  night. 

He  had  but  one  idea  in  his  mind,  to  find 
some  lonely  spot ;  some  spot  where  the  foot 
steps  of  man  would  never  penetrate,  some  spot 
that  would  yield  him  rest,  sleep,  obliteration, 
forgetfulness,  and,  above  all,  where  he  would 
be  forgotten.  He  had  seen  such  places ;  surely 
there  were  many,  —  where  bones  were  picked 


FLIP:  A    CALIFORNIA  ROMANCE.      103 

up  of  dead  men  who  had  faded  from  the  earth 
and  had  left  no  other  record.  If  he  could  only 
keep  his  senses  now  he  might  find  such  a 
spot,  but  he  must  be  careful,  for  her  little  feet 
went  everywhere,  and  she  must  never  see  him 
again  alive  or  dead.  And  in  the  midst  of  his 
thoughts,  and  the  darkness,  and  the  storm, 
he  heard  a  voice  at  his  side,  "  Lance,  how  long 
you  have  been  !  " 

Left  to  himself,  the  old  man  again  fell  into 
a  vacant  contemplation  of  the  dead  body  be 
fore  him,  until  a  stronger  blast  swept  down 
like  an  avalanche  upon  the  cabin,  burst 
through  the  ill-fastened  door  „  and  broken 
chimney,  and,  dashing  the  ashes  and  living 
embers  over  the  floor,  filled  the  room  with 
blinding  smoke  and  flame.  Fairley  rose  with 
a  feeble  cry,  and  then,  as  if  acted  upon  by 
some  dominant  memory,  groped  under  the 
bed  until  he  found  his  buckskin  bag  and  his 


104      FLIP:  A   CALIFORNIA  ROMANCE. 

precious  crystal,  and  fled  precipitately  from 
the  room.  Lifted  by  this  second  shock  from 
his  apathy,  he  returned  to  the  fixed  idea  of 
his  life,  —  the  discovery  and  creation  of  the 
diamond,  —  and  forgot  all  else.  The  feeble 
grasp  that  his  shaken  intellect  kept  of  the 
events  of  the  night  relaxed,  the  disguised 
Lance,  the  story  of  his  son,  the  murder, 
slipped  into  nothingness  ;  there  remained 
only  the  one  idea,  his  nightly  watch  by  the 
diamond  pit.  The  instinct  of  long  habit  was 
stronger  than  the  darkness  or  the  onset  .of  the 
storm,  and  he  kept  his  tottering  way  over 
stream  and  fallen  timber  until  he  reached  the 
spot.  A  sudden  tremor  seemed  to  shake  the 
lambent  flame  that  had  lured  him  on.  He^ 
thought  he  heard  the  sound  of  voices  ;  there 
were  signs  of  recent  disturbance,  —  footprints 
in  the  sawdust !  With  a  cry  of  rage  and  sus 
picion,  Fairley  slipped  into  the  pit  and  sprang 
toward  the  nearest  opening.  To  his  frenzied 


FLIP:  A   CALIFORNIA  ROMANCE.      105 

fancy  it  had  been  tampered  with,  his  secret 
discovered,  the  fruit  of  his  long  labors  stolen 
from  him  that  very  night.  With  superhuman 
strength  he  began  to  open  the  pit,  scattering 
the  half-charred  logs  right  and  left,  and  giv 
ing  vent  to  the  suffocating  gases  that  rose 
from  the  now  incandescent  charcoal.  At 
times  the  fury  of  the  gale  would  drive  it  back 
and  hold  it  against  the  sides  of  the  pit,  leav 
ing  the  opening  free  ;  at  times,  following  the 
blind  instinct  of  habit,  the  demented  man 
would  fall  upon  his  face  and  bury  his  nose 
and  mouth  in  the  wet  bark  and  sawdust.  At 
last,  the  paroxysm  past,  he  sank  back  again  in 
his  old  apathetic  attitude  of  watching,  the  at 
titude  he  had  so  often  kept  beside  his  sylvan 
crucible.  In  this  attitude  and  in  silence  he 
waited  for  the  dawn. 

It  came  with  a  hush  in  the  storm ;  it  came 
with  blue  openings  in  the  broken  up  and  tum 
bled  heavens  ;  it  came  with  stars  that  glis- 


106      FLIP:  A   CALIFORNIA   ROMANCE. 

tened  first,  and  then  paled,  and  at  last,  sank 
drowning  in  those  deep  cerulean  lakes  ;  it 
came  with  those  cerulean  lakes  broadening 
into  vaster  seas,  whose  shores  expanded  at 
last  into  one  illimitable  ocean,  cerulean  no 
more,  but  flecked  with  crimson  and  opal  dyes ; 
it  came  with  the  lightly  lifted  misty  curtain  of 
the  day,  torn  and  rent  on  crag  and  pine  top, 
but  always  lifting,  lifting.  It  came  with  the 
sparkle  of  emerald  in  the  grasses,  and  the  flash 
of  diamonds  in  every  spray,  with  a  whisper  in 
the  awakening  woods,  and  voices  in  the  trav 
eled  roads  and  trails. 

The  sound  of  these  voices  stopped  before 
the  pit,  and  seemed  to  interrogate  the  old 
man.  He  came,  and,  putting  his  finger  on 
his  lips,  made  a  sign  of  caution.  When  three 
or  four  men  had  descended  he  bade  them  fol 
low  him,  saying,  weakly  and  disjointedly,  but 
persistently:  "My  boy  —  my  son  Robert  — 
came  home  —  came  home  at  last  —  here  with 
Flip  —  both  of  them  —  come  and  see  !  " 


FLIP:  A   CALIFORNIA  ROMANCE.      107 

He  had  reached  a  little  niche  or  nest  in  the 
hillside,  and  stopped  and  suddenly  drew  aside 
a  blanket.  Beneath  it,  side  by  side,  lay  Flip 
and  Lance,  dead,  with  their  cold  hands  clasped 
in  each  other's. 

"  Suffocated  ! "  said  two  or  three,  turning 
with  horror  toward  the  broken  up  and  still 
smouldering  pit. 

"  Asleep  !  "  said  the  old  man.  "  Asleep ! 
I  've  seen  'em  lying  that  way  when  they  were 
babies  together.  Don't  tell  me  !  Don't  say 
I  don't  know  my  own  flesh  and  blood  !  So  ! 
so  !  So,  my  pretty  ones  !  "  He  stooped  and 
kissed  them.  Then,  drawing  the  blanket  over 
them  gently,  he  rose  and  said  softly,  "  Good 
night !  " 


FOUND  AT  BLAZING   STAR. 


FOUND   AT  BLAZING  STAB. 


THE  rain  had  only  ceased  with  the  gray 
streaks  of  morning  at  Blazing  Star,  and  the 
settlement  awoke  to  a  moral  sense  of  cleanli 
ness,  and  the  rinding  of  forgotten  knives,  tin 
cups,  and  smaller  camp  utensils,  where  the 
heavy  showers  had  washed  away  the  debris 
and  dust  heaps  before  the  cabin  doors.  In 
deed,  it  was  recorded  in  Blazing  Star  that  a 
fortunate  early  riser  had  once  picked  up  on 
the  highway  a  solid  chunk  of  gold  quartz 
which  the  rain  had  freed  from  its  incumber- 
ing  soil,  and  washed  into  immediate  and  glit 
tering  popularity.  Possibly  this  may  have 
been  the  reason  why  early  risers  in  that  lo 
cality,  during  the  rainy  season,  adopted  a 


112  FOUND  AT  BLAZING  STAR. 

thoughtful  habit  of  body,  and  seldom  lifted 
their  eyes  to  the  rifted  or  india-ink  washed 
skies  above  them. 

"  Cass  "  Beard  had  risen  early  that  morn 
ing,  but  not  with  a  view  to  discovery.  A  leak 
in  his  cabin  roof,  —  quite  consistent  with  his 
careless,  improvident  habits,  —  had  roused 
him  at  4  A.  M.,  with  a  flooded  "  bunk  "  and 
wet  blankets.  The  chips  from  his  wood  pile 
refused  to  kindle  a  fire  to  dry  his  bed-clothes, 
and  he  had  recourse  to  a  more  provident 
neighbor's  to  supply  the  deficiency.  This 
was  nearly  opposite.  Mr.  Cassius  crossed  the 
highway,  and  stopped  suddenly.  Something 
glittered  in  the  nearest  red  pool  before  him. 
Gold,  surely  !  But,  wonderful  to  relate,  not 
an  irregular,  shapeless  fragment  of  crude  ore, 
fresh  from  Nature's  crucible,  but  a  bit  of  jew 
eler's  handicraft  in  the  form  of  a  plain  gold 
ring.  Looking  at  it  more  attentively,  he  saw 
that  it  bore  the  inscription,  "  May  to  Cass." 


FOUND  AT  BLAZING  STAR.  113 

Like  most  of  his  fellow  gold-seekers,  Cass 
was  superstitious.  "  Cass  !  "  His  own  name  ! 
He  tried  the  ring.  It  fitted  his  little  finger 
closely.  It  was  evidently  a  woman's  ring. 
He  looked  up  and  down  the  highway.  No 
one  was  yet  stirring.  Little  pools  of  water 
in  the  red  road  were  beginning  to  glitter  and 
grow  rosy  from  the  far-flushing  east,  but  there 
was  no  trace  of  the  owner  of  the  shining  waif. 
He  knew  that  there  was  no  woman  in  camp, 
and  among  his  few  comrades  in  the  settle 
ment  he  remembered  to  have  seen  none 
wearing  an  ornament  like  that.  Again,  the 
coincidence  of  the  inscription  to  his  rather 
peculiar  nickname  would  have  been  a  peren 
nial  source  of  playful  comment  in  a  camp 
that  made  no  allowance  for  sentimental  mem 
ories.  He  slipped  the  glittering  little  hoop 
into  his  pocket,  and  thoughtfully  returned  to 
his  cabin. 

Two  hours  later,  when  the  long,  straggling 


114  FOUND  AT  BLAZING  STAR. 

procession,  which  every  morning  wended  its 
way  to  Blazing  Star  Gulch,  —  the  seat  of 
mining  operations  in  the  settlement,  —  began 
to  move,  Cass  saw  fit  to  interrogate  his  fel 
lows.  "  Ye  did  n't  none  on  ye  happen  to 
drop  anything  round  yer  last  night  ? "  he 
asked,  cautiously. 

"  I  dropped  a  pocketbook  containing  gov 
ernment  bonds  and  some  other  securities,  with 
between  fifty  and  sixty  thousand  dollars,"  re 
sponded  Peter  Drummond,  carelessly  ;  "  but 
no  matter,  if  any  man  will  return  a  few  au 
tograph  letters  from  foreign  potentates  that 
happened  to  be  in  it,  —  of  no  value  to  any 
body  but  the  owner,  —  he  can  keep  the  money. 
Thar  's  nothin'  mean  about  me,"  he  concluded, 
languidly. 

This  statement,  bearing  every  evidence  of 
the  grossest  mendacity,  was  lightly  passed 
over,  and  the  men  walked  on  with  the  deepest 
gravity. 


FOUND  AT  BLAZING  STAR.          115 

"  But  hev  you?  "  Cass  presently  asked  of 
another. 

"  I  lost  my  pile  to  Jack  Hamlin  at  draw- 
poker,  over  at  Wingdam  last  night,"  returned 
the  other,  pensively,  "  but  I  don't  calkilate 
to  find  it  lying  round  loose." 

Forced  at  last  by  this  kind  of  irony  into 
more  detailed  explanation,  Cass  confided  to 
them  his  discovery,  and  produced  his  treasure. 
The  result  was  a  dozen  vague  surmises, — 
only  one  of  which  seemed  to  be  popular,  and 
to  suit  the  dyspeptic  despondency  of  the 
party,  —  a  despondency  born  of  hastily  mas 
ticated  fried  pork  and  flapjacks.  The  ring 
was  believed  to  have  been  dropped  by  some 
passing  "  road  agent  "  laden  with  guilty  spoil. 

"  Ef  I  was  you,"  said  Drummond,  gloomily, 
"  I  would  n't  flourish  that  yer  ring  around 
much  afore  folks.  I  've  seen  better  men  nor 
you  strung  up  a  tree  by  Vigilantes  for  having 
even  less  than  that  in  their  possession." 


116          FOUND  AT  BLAZING  STAR. 

"  And  I  would  n't  say  much  about  bein'  up 
so  d — d  early  this  morning,"  added  an  even 
more  pessimistic  comrade;  "  it  might  look  bad 
before  a  jury." 

With  this  the  men  sadly  dispersed,  leaving 
the  innocent  Cass  with  the  ring  in  his  Land, 
and  a  general  impression  on  his  mind  that  he 
was  already  an  object  of  suspicion  to  his  com 
rades,  —  an  impression,  it  is  hardly  necessary 
to  say,  they  fully  intended  should  be  left  to 
rankle  in  his  guileless  bosom. 

Notwithstanding  Cass's  first  hopeful  super 
stition,  the  ring  did  not  seem  to  bring  him 
nor  the  camp  any  luck.  Daily  the  "  clean 
up  "  brought  the  same  scant  rewards  to  their 
labors,  and  deepened  the  sardonic  gravity  of 
Blazing  Star.  But,  if  Cass  found  no  material 
result  from  his  treasure,  it  stimulated  his  lazy 
imagination,  and,  albeit  a  dangerous  and  se 
ductive  stimulant,  at  least  lifted  him  out  of 
the  monotonous  grooves  of  his  half-careless, 


FOUND  AT  BLAZING  STAR.          117 

half-slovenly,  but  always  self-contented  camp 
life.  Heeding  the  wise  caution  of  his  com 
rades,  he  took  the  habit  of  wearing  the  ring 
only  at  night.  Wrapped  in  his  blanket,  he 
stealthily  slipped  the  golden  circlet  over  his 
little  finger,  and,  as  he  averred,  "  slept  all  the 
better  for  it."  Whether  it  ever  evoked  any 
wanner  dream  or  vision  during  those  calm, 
cold,  virgin-like  spring  nights,  when  even  the 
moon  and  the  greater  planets  retreated  into 
the  icy  blue,  steel-like  firmament,  I  cannot 
say.  Enough  that  this  superstition  began  to 
be  colored  a  little  by  fancy,  and  his  fatalism 
somewhat  mitigated  by  hope.  Dreams  of  this 
kind  did  not  tend  to  promote  his  efficiency 
in  the  communistic  labors  of  the  camp,  and 
brought  him  a  self-isolation  that,  however 
gratifying  at  first,  soon  debarred  him  the  ben 
efits  of  that  hard  practical  wisdom  which  un 
derlaid  the  grumbling  of  his  fellow  workers. 
"  I  'm  dog-goned,"  said  one  commentator, 


118  FOUND  AT  BLAZING  STAR. 

"  ef  I  don't  believe  that  Cass  is  looney  over 
that  yer  ring  he  found.  Wears  it  on  a  string 
under  his  shirt." 

Meantime,  the  seasons  did  not  wait  the 
discovery  of  the  secret.  The  red  pools  in 
Blazing  Star  highway  were  soon  dried  up  in 
the  fervent  June  sun  and  riotous  night  winds 
of  those  altitudes.  The  ephemeral  grasses 
that  had  quickly  supplanted  these  pools  and 
the  chocolate-colored  mud,  were  as  quickly 
parched  and  withered.  The  footprints  of 
spring  became  vague  and  indefinite,  and  were 
finally  lost  in  the  impalpable  dust  of  the  sum 
mer  highway. 

In  one  of  his  long,  aimless  excursions,  Cass 
had  penetrated  a  thick  undergrowth  of  buck 
eye  and  hazel,  and  found  himself  quite  unex 
pectedly  upon  the  high  road  to  Red  Chief's 
Crossing.  Cass  knew  by  the  lurid  cloud  of 
dust  that  hid  the  distance,  that  the  up  coach 
had  passed.  He  had  already  reached  that 


FOUND  AT  BLAZING  STAR.          119 

stage  of  superstition  when  the  most  trivial 
occurrence  seemed  to  point  in  some  way  to 
an  elucidation  of  the  mystery  of  his  treasure. 
His  eyes  had  mechanically  fallen  to  the  ground 
again,  as  if  he  half  expected  to  find  in  some 
other  waif  a  hint  or  corroboration  of  his  im 
aginings.  Thus  abstracted,  the  figure  of  a 
young  girl  on  horseback,  in  the  road  directly 
before  the  bushes  he  emerged  from,  appeared 
to  have  sprung  directly  from  the  ground. 

"  Oh,  come  here,  please  do ;  quick  !  " 

Cass  stared,  and  then  moved  hesitatingly 
toward  her. 

"I  heard  some  one  coming  through  the 
bushes,  and  I  waited,"  she  went  on.  "  Come 
quick.  It 's  something  too  awful  for  any 
thing." 

In  spite  of  this  appalling  introduction,  Cass 
could  not  but  notice  that  the  voice,  although 
hurried  and  excited,  was  by  no  means  agitated 
or  frightened ;  that  the  eyes  which  looked 


120          FOUND  AT  BLAZING  STAR. 

into  his  sparkled  with  a  certain  kind  of  pleased 
curiosity. 

"  It  was  just  here,"  she  went  on  vivaciously, 
"  just  here  that  I  went  into  the  bush  and  cut 
a  switch  for  my  mare,  —  and,"  —  leading  him 
along  at  a  brisk  trot  by  her  side, —  "just 
here,  look,  see !  this  is  what  I  found." 

It  was  scarcely  thirty  feet  from  the  road. 
The  only  object  that  met  Cass's  eye  was  a 
man's  stiff,  tall  hat,  lying  emptily  and  va 
cantly  in  the  grass.  It  was  new,  shiny,  and 
of  modish  shape.  But  it  was  so  incongruous, 
so  perkily  smart,  and  yet  so  feeble  and  help 
less  lying  there,  so  ghastly  ludicrous  in  its 
very  appropriateness  and  incapacity  to  adjust 
itself  to  the  surrounding  landscape,  that  it 
affected  him  with  something  more  than  a 
sense  of  its  grotesqueness,  and  he  could  only 
stare  at  it  blankly. 

"  But  you  're  not  looking  the  right  way," 
the  girl  went  on  sharply ;  "  look  there  !  " 


FOUND  AT  BLAZING  STAR.  121 

Cass  followed  the  direction  of  her  whip. 
At  last,  what  might  have  seemed  a  coat 
thrown  carelessly  on  the  ground  met  his  eye, 
but  presently  he  became  aware  of  a  white, 
rigid,  aimlessly-clinched  hand  protruding  from 
the  flaccid  sleeve ;  mingled  with  it  in  some 
absurd  way  and  half  hidden  by  the  grass,  lay 
what  might  have  been  a  pair  of  cast-off  trou 
sers  but  for  two  rigid  boots  that  pointed  in 
opposite  angles  to  the  sky.  It  was  a  dead 
man.  So  palpably  dead  that  life  seemed  to 
have  taken  flight  from  his  very  clothes.  So 
impotent,  feeble,  and  degraded  by  them  that 
the  naked  subject  of  a  dissecting  table  would 
have  been  less  insulting  to  humanity.  The 
head  had  fallen  back,  and  was  partly  hidden 
in  a  gopher  burrow,  but  the  white,  upturned 
face  and  closed  eyes  had  less  of  helpless  death 
in  them  than  those  wretched  enwrappings. 
Indeed,  one  limp  hand  that  lay  across  the 
swollen  abdomen  lent  itself  to  the  grotesquely 


122  FOUND  AT  BLAZING  STAR. 

hideous  suggestion  of  a  gentleman  sleeping  off 
the  excesses  of  a  hearty  dinner. 

"Ain't  he  horrid?"  continued  the  girl; 
"but  what  killed  him?" 

Struggling  between  a  certain  fascination  at 
the  girl's  cold-blooded  curiosity  and  horror  of 
the  murdered  man,  Cass  hesitatingly  lifted 
the  helpless  head.  A  bluish  hole  above  the 
right  temple,  and  a  few  brown  paint-like  spots 
on  the  forehead,  shirt  collar,  and  matted  hair 
proved  the  only  record. 

"  Turn  him  over  again,"  said  the  girl,  im 
patiently,  as  Cass  was  about  to  relinquish 
his  burden.  "  May  be  you  '11  find  another 
wound." 

But  Cass  was  dimly  remembering  certain 
formalities  that  in  older  civilizations  attend 
the  discovery  of  dead  bodies,  and  postponed  a 
present  inquest. 

"  Perhaps  you  'd  better  ride  on,  Miss,  afore 
you  get  summoned  as  a  witness.  I  '11  give 


FOUND  AT  BLAZING  STAR.  123 

warning  at  Red  Chief's  Crossing,  and  send  the 
coroner  down  here." 

44  Let  me  go  with  you,"  she  said,  earnestly, 
"  it  would  be  such  fun.  I  don't  mind  being  a 
witness.  Or,"  she  added,  without  heeding 
Cass's  look  of  astonishment,  "  I  '11  wait  here 
till  you  come  back." 

"  But  you  see,  Miss,  it  would  n't  seem 
right," —  began  Cass. 

"  But  I  found  him  first,"  interrupted  the 
girl,  with  a  pout. 

Staggered  by  this  preemptive  right,  sacred 
to  all  miners,  Cass  stopped. 

"  Who  is  the  coroner  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  Joe  Hornsby." 

"  The  tall,  lame  man,  who  was  half  eaten 
by  a  grizzly  ?  " 

«  Yes." 

"  Well,  look  now  !  I '11  ride  on  and  bring 
him  back  in  half  an  hour.  There  !  " 

"  But,  Miss !  " 


124          FOUND  AT  BLAZING  STAR. 

"  Oh,  don't  mind  me.  I  never  saw  any 
thing  of  this  kind  before,  and  I  want  to  see  it 
all." 

"  Do  you  know  Hornsby  ?  "  asked  Cass, 
unconsciously  a  trifle  irritated. 

"  No,  but  I  '11  bring  him."  She  wheeled 
her  horse  into  the  road. 

In  the  presence  of  this  living  energy  Cass 
quite  forgot  the  helpless  dead.  "  Have  you 
been  long  in  these  parts,  Miss  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  About  two  weeks,"  she  answered,  shortly. 
"  Good-by,  just  now.  Look  around  for  the 
pistol  or  anything  else  you  can  find,  although 
/  have  been  over  the  whole  ground  twice  al 
ready." 

A  little  puff  of  dust  as  the  horse  sprang 
into  the  road,  a  muffled  shuffle,  struggle,  then 
the  regular  beat  of  hoofs,  and  she  was  gone. 

After  five  minutes  had  passed,  Cass  regret 
ted  that  he  had  not  accompanied  her :  waiting 
in  such  a  spot  was  an  irksome  task.  Not  that 


FOUND  AT  BLAZING  STAR.          125 

there  was  anything  in  the  scene  itself  to 
awaken  gloomy  imaginings ;  the  bright,  truth 
ful  Californian  sunshine  scoffed  at  any  illu 
sion  of  creeping  shadows  or  waving  branches. 
Once,  in  the  rising  wind,  the  empty  hat  rolled 
over  —  but  only  in  a  ludicrous,  drunken  way. 
A  search  for  any  further  sign  or  token  had 
proved  futile,  and  Cass  grew  impatient.  He 
began  to  hate  himself  for  having  stayed ;  he 
would  have  fled  but  for  shame.  Nor  was  his 
good  humor  restored  when  at  the  close  of  a 
weary  half  hour  two  galloping  figures  emerged 
from  the  dusty  horizon  —  Hornsby  arid  the 
young  girl. 

His  vague  annoyance  increased  as  he  fancied 
that  both  seemed  to  ignore  him,  the  coroner 
barely  acknowledging  his  presence  with  a 
nod.  Assisted  by  the  young  girl,  whose 
energy  and  enthusiasm  evidently  delighted 
him,  Hornsby  raised  the  body  for  a  more  care 
ful  examination.  The  dead  man's  pockets 


126  FOUND  AT  BLAZING  STAR. 

were  carefully  searched.  A  few  coins,  a  silver 
pencil,  knife,  and  tobacco-box  were  all  they 
found.  It  gave  no  clew  to  his  identity.  Sud 
denly  the  young  girl,  who  had,  with  unabashed 
curiosity,  knelt  beside  the  exploring  official 
hands  of  the  Red  Chief,  uttered  a  cry  of 
gratification. 

"  Here  's  something !  It  dropped  from  the 
bosom  of  his  shirt  on  the  ground.  Look  !  " 

She  was  holding  in  the  air,  between  her 
thumb  and  forefinger,  a  folded  bit  of  well- 
worn  newspaper.  Her  eyes  sparkled. 

"  Shall  I  open  it  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  Yes." 

"  It  's  a  little  ring,"  she  said  ;  "  looks  like 
an  engagement  ring.  Something  is  written 
on  it.  Look  !  '  May  to  Cass.'  " 

Cass  darted  forward.  "  It  's  mine,"  he 
stammered,  "  mine  !  I  dropped  it.  It  's  noth 
ing  —  nothing,"  he  went  on,  after  a  pause, 
embarrassed  and  blushing,  as  the  girl  and  her 


FOUND  AT  BLAZING  STAR.  127 

companion  both  stared  at  him  —  "a  mere 
trifle.  I  '11  take  it." 

But  the  coroner  opposed  his  outstretched 
hand.  "  Not  much,"  he  said,  significantly. 

"  But  it  's  mine"  continued  Cass,  indigna 
tion  taking  the  place  of  shame  at  his  dis 
covered  secret.  "  I  found  it  six  months  ago 
in  the  road.  I  —  picked  it  up." 

"  With  your  name  already  written  on  it ! 
How  handy !  "  said  the  coroner,  grimly. 

"  It 's  an  old  story,"  said  Cass,  blushing 
again  under  the  half-mischievous,  half-search 
ing  eyes  of  the  girl.  "  All  Blazing  Star  knows 
I  found  it." 

"  Then  ye  '11  have  no  difficulty  in  provin' 
it,"  said  Hornsby,  coolly.  "  Just  now,  how 
ever,  we  've  found  it,  and  we  propose  to  keep 
it  for  the  inquest." 

Cass  shrugged  his  shoulders.  Further  al 
tercation  would  have  only  heightened  his 
ludicrous  situation  in  the  girl's  eyes.  He 


128  FOUND  AT  BLAZING  STAR. 

turned  away,  leaving  his  treasure  in  the  cor 
oner's  hands. 

The  inquest,  a  day  or  two  later,  was  prompt 
and  final.  No  clew  to  the  dead  man's  iden 
tity  ;  no  evidence  sufficiently  strong  to  prove 
murder  or  suicide ;  no  trace  of  any  kind,  in 
culpating  any  party,  known  or  unknown,  were 
found.  But  much  publicity  and  interest  were 
given  to  the  proceedings  by  the  presence  of 
the  principal  witness,  a  handsome  girl.  "  To 
the  pluck,  persistency,  and  intellect  of  Miss 
Porter,"  said  the  "Red  CJiief  Recorder," 
"  Tuoluinne  County  owes  the  recovery  of  the 
body." 

No  one  who  was  present  at  the  inquest 
failed  to  be  charmed  with  the  appearance  and 
conduct  of  this  beautiful  young  lady. 

"  Miss  Porter  has  but  lately  arrived  in  this 
district,  in  which,  it  is  hoped,  she  will  become 
an  honored  resident,  and  continue  to  set  an 
example  to  all  lackadaisical  and  sentimental 


FOUND  AT  BLAZING  STAR.          129 

members  of  the  so-called  4  sterner  sex.'  "  After 
this  universally  recognized  allusion  to  Cass 
Beard,  the  "  Recorder  "returned  to  its  record  : 
"  Some  interest  was  excited  by  what  appeared 
to  be  a  clew  to  the  mystery  in  the  discovery 
of  a  small  gold  engagement  ring  on  the  body. 
Evidence  was  afterward  offered  to  show  it  was 
the  property  of  a  Mr.  Cass  Beard  of  Blazing 
Star,  who  appeared  upon  the  scene  after  the 
discovery  of  the  corpse  by  Miss  Porter.  He 
alleged  he  had  dropped  it  in  lifting  the  unfor 
tunate  remains  of  the  deceased.  Much  amuse 
ment  was  created  in  court  by  the  sentimental 
confusion  of  the  claimant,  and  a  certain  par 
tisan  spirit  shown  by  his  fellow-miners  of 
Blazing  Star.  It  appearing,  however,  by  the 
admission  of  this  sighing  Strephon  of  the 
Foot  Hills,  that  he  had  himself  found  this 
pledge  of  affection  lying  in  the  highway  six 
months  previous,  the  coroner  wisely  placed  it 


130  FOUND  AT  BLAZING  STAR. 

in  the  safe-keeping  of  the  county  court  until 
the  appearance  of  the  rightful  owner." 

Thus  on  the  13th  of  September,  186-,  the 
treasure  found  at  Blazing  Star  passed  out  of 
the  hands  of  its  finder. 

Autumn  brought  an  abrupt  explanation  of 
the  mystery.  Kanaka  Joe  had  been  arrested 
for  horse  stealing,  but  had  with  noble  candor 
confessed  to  the  finer  offense  of  manslaugh 
ter.  That  swift  and  sure  justice  which  over 
took  the  horse  stealer  in  thes,e  altitudes  was 
stayed  a  moment  and  hesitated,  for  the  victim 
was  clearly  the  mysterious  unknown.  Curi 
osity  got  the  better  of  an  extempore  judge 
and  jury. 

"  It  was  a  fair  fight,"  said  the  accused,  not 
without  some  human  vanity,  feeling  that  the 
camp  hung  upon  his  words,  "  and  was  settled 
by  the  man  az  was  peartest  and  liveliest  with 
his  weapon.  We  had  a  sort  of  unpleasantness 


FOUND  AT  BLAZING  STAR.  131 

over  at  Lagrange  the  night  afore,  along  of 
our  both  hevin'  a  monotony  of  four  aces.  We 
had  a  clinch  and  a  stamp  around,  and  when 
we  was  separated  it  was  only  a  question  of 
shootin'  on  sight.  He  left  Lagrange  at  sun 
up  the  next  morning,  and  I  struck  across  a 
bit  o'  buckeye  and  underbrush  and  came  upon 
him,  accidental  like,  on  the  Red  Chief  Road. 
I  drawed  when  I  sighted  him,  and  called  out. 
He  slipped  from  his  mare  and  covered  him 
self  with  her  flanks,  reaching  for  his  holster, 
but  she  rared  and  backed  down  on  him  across 
the  road  and  into  the  grass,  where  I  got  in 
another  shot  and  fetched  him." 

"  And  you  stole  his  mare  ?  "  suggested  the 
Judge. 

"  I  got  away,"  said  the  gambler,  simply. 

Further  questioning  only  elicited  the  fact 
that  Joe  did  not  know  the  name  or  condition 
of  his  victim.  He  was  a  stranger  in  Lagrange. 

It  was  a  breezy  afternoon,  with  some  tur- 


132  FOUND  AT  BLAZING  STAR. 

bulency  in  the  camp,  and  much  windy  discus 
sion  over  this  unwonted  delay  of  justice.  The 
suggestion  that  Joe  should  be  first  hung  for 
horse  stealing  and  then  tried  for  murder  was 
angrily  discussed,  but  milder  counsels  were  of 
fered  —  that  the  fact  of  the  killing  should  be 
admitted  only  as  proof  of  the  theft.  A  large 
party  from  Red  Chief  had  come  over  to  as 
sist  in  judgment,  among  them  the  coroner. 

Cass  Beard  had  avoided  these  proceedings, 
which  only  recalled  an  unpleasant  experience, 
and  was  wandering  with  pick,  pan,  and  wallet 
far  from  the  camp.  These  accoutrements,  as  I 
have  before  intimated,  justified  any  form  of 
aimless  idleness  under  the  equally  aimless  title 
of  "  prospecting."  He  had  at  the  end  of  three 
hours'  relaxation  reached  the  highway  to  Red 
Chief,  half  hidden  by  blinding  clouds  of  dust 
torn  from  the  crumbling  red  road  at  every 
gust  which  swept  down  the  mountain  side. 
The  spot  had  a  familiar  aspect  to  Cass,  al- 


FOUND  AT  BLAZING  STAR.  133 

though  some  freshly-dug  holes  near  the  way 
side,  with  scattered  earth  beside  them,  showed 
the  presence  of  a  recent  prospector.  He  was 
struggling  with  his  memory,  when  the  dust 
was  suddenly  dispersed  and  he  found  himself 
again  at  the  scene  of  the  murder.  He  started : 
he  had  not  put  foot  on  the  road  since  the  in 
quest.  There  lacked  only  the  helpless  dead 
man  and  the  contrasting  figure  of  the  alert 
young  woman  to  restore  the  picture.  The 
body  was  gone,  it  was  true,  but  as  he  turned 
he  beheld  Miss  Porter,  at  a  few  paces  distant, 
sitting  her  horse  as  energetic  and  observant 
as  on  the  first  morning  they  had  met.  A  su 
perstitious  thrill  passed  over  him  and  awoke 
his  old  antagonism. 

She  nodded  to  him  slightly.  "  I  came  here 
to  refresh  my  memory,"  she  said,  "  as  Mr. 
Hornsby  thought  I  might  be  asked  to  give  my 
evidence  again  at  Blazing  Star." 

Cass  carelessly  struck  an  aimless  blow  with 
his  pick  against  the  sod  and  did  not  reply. 


134  FOUND  AT  BLAZING  STAR. 

"  And  you  ?  "  she  queried. 

"  I  stumbled  upon  the  place  just  now  while 
prospecting,  or  I  should  n't  be  here." 

"  Then  it  was  you  made  these  holes  ?  " 

"  No,"  said  Cass,  with  ill-concealed  disgust. 
"  Nobody  but  a  stranger  would  go  foolin' 
round  such  a  spot." 

He  stopped,  as  the  rude  significance  of  his 
speech  struck  him,  and  added  surlily.  "  I 
mean  —  no  one  would  dig  here." 

The  girl  laughed  and  showed  a  set  of  very 
white  teeth  in  her  square  jaw.  Cass  averted 
his  face. 

'.'  Do  you  mean  to  say  that  every  miner 
does  n't  know  that  it 's  lucky  to  dig  wherever 
human  blood  has  been  spilt  ?  " 

Cass  felt  a  return  of  his  superstition,  but 
he  did  not  look  up.  "I  never  heard  it  be 
fore,"  he  said,  severely. 

"And  you  call  yourself  a  California  mi 
ner?" 

"I  do." 


FOUND  AT  BLAZING  STAR.  135 

It  was  impossible  for  Miss  Porter  to  mis 
understand  his  curt  speech  and  unsocial  man 
ner.  She  stared  at  him  and  colored  slightly. 
Lifting  her  reins  lightly,  she  said  :  "  You  cer 
tainly  do  not  seem  like  most  of  the  miners  I 
have  met." 

"  Nor  you  like  any  girl  from  the  East  I 
ever  met,"  he  responded. 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  "  she  asked,  check 
ing  her  horse. 

"  What  I  say,"  he  answered,  doggedly. 
Reasonable  as  this  reply  was,  it  immediately 
struck  him  that  it  was  scarcely  dignified  or 
manly.  But  before  he  could  explain  himself 
Miss  Porter  was  gone. 

He  met  her  again  that  very  evening.  The 
trial  had  been  summarily  suspended  by  the 
appearance  of  the  Sheriff  of  Calaveras  and 
his  posse,  who  took  Joe  from  that  self-consti 
tuted  tribunal  of  Blazing  Star  and  set  his 
face  southward  and  toward  authoritative  al- 


136  FOUND  AT  BLAZING  STAR. 

though  more  cautious  justice.  But  not  before 
the  evidence  of  the  previous  inquest  had  been 
read,  and  the  incident  of  the  ring  again  deliv 
ered  to  the  public.  It  is  said  the  prisoner 
burst  into  an  incredulous  laugh  and  asked  to 
see  this  mysterious  waif.  It  was  handed  to 
him.  Standing  in  the  very  shadow  of  the 
gallows  tree  —  which  might  have  been  one  of 
the  pines  that  sheltered  the  billiard  room  in 
which  the  Vigilance  Committee  held  their 
conclave  —  the  prisoner  gave  way  to  a  burst 
of  merriment,  so  genuine  and  honest  that  the 
judge  and  jury  joined  in  automatic  sympathy. 
When  silence  was  restored  an  explanation  was 
asked  by  the  Judge.  But  there  was  no  re 
sponse  from  the  prisoner  except  a  subdued 
chuckle. 

"  Did  this  ring  belong  to  you  ?  "  asked  the 
Judge,  severely,  the  jury  and  spectators  cran 
ing  their  ears  forward  with  an  expectant 
smile  already  on  their  faces.  But  the  prison- 


FOUND  AT  BLAZING  STAR.  137 

er's  eyes  only  sparkled  maliciously  as  ho 
looked  around  the  court. 

"  Tell  us,  Joe,"  said  a  sympathetic  and 
laughter-loving  juror,  under  his  breath.  "Let 
it  out  and  we  '11  make  it  easy  for  you." 

"  Prisoner,"  said  the  Judge,  with  a  return 
of  official  dignity,  "  remember  that  your  life 
is  in  peril.  Do  you  refuse  ?  " 

Joe  lazily  laid  his  arm  on  the  back  of  his 
chair  with  (to  quote  the  words  of  an  animated 
observer)  "  the  air  of  having  a  Christian  hope 
and  a  sequence  flush  in  his  hand,"  and  said  : 
"  Well,  as  I  reckon  I  'm  not  up  yer  for  steal- 
in'  a  ring  that  another  man  lets  on  to  have 
found,  and  as  fur  as  I  kin  see,  hez  nothin'  to 
do  with  the  case,  I  do  !  "  And  as  it  was  here 
that  the  Sheriff  of  Calaveras  made  a  precipi 
tate  entry  into  the  room,  the  mystery  re 
mained  unsolved. 

The  effect  of  this  freshly-important  ridicule 
on  the  sensitive  mind  of  Cass  might  have  been 


138  FOUND  AT  BLAZING  STAR. 

foretold  by  Blazing  Star  had  it  ever  taken 
that  sensitiveness  into  consideration.  He  had 
lost  the  good  humor  and  easy  pliability  which 
had  tempted  him  to  frankness,  and  he  had 
gradually  become  bitter  and  hard.  He  had  at 
first  affected  amusement  over  his  own  van 
ished  day  dream  —  hiding  his  virgin  disap 
pointment  in  his  own  breast ;  but  when  he 
began  to  turn  upon  his  feelings  he  turned 
upon  his  comrades  also.  Cass  was  for  a  while 
unpopular.  There  is  no  ingratitude  so  revolt 
ing  to  the  human  mind  as  that  of  the  butt 
who  refuses  to  be  one  any  longer.  The  man 
who  rejects  that  immunity  which  laughter 
generally  casts  upon  him  and  demands  to  be 
seriously  considered  deserves  no  mercy. 

It  was  under  these  hard  conditions  that 
Cass  Beard,  convicted  of  overt  sentimentalism, 
aggravated  by  inconsistency,  stepped  into  the 
Red  Chief  coach  that  evening.  It  was  his 
habit  usually  to  ride  with  the  driver,  but  the 


FOUND  AT  BLAZING  STAR.  139 

presence  of  Hornsby  and  Miss  Porter  on  the 
box  seat  changed  his  intention.  Yet  he  had 
the  satisfaction  of  seeing  that  neither  had  no 
ticed  him,  and  as  there  was  no  other  passen 
ger  inside,  he  stretched  himself  on  the  cushion 
of  the  back  seat  and  gave  way  to  moody  re 
flections.  He  quite  determined  to  leave  Blaz 
ing  Star,  to  settle  himself  seriously  to  the  task 
of  money  getting,  and  to  return  to  his  com 
rades,  some  day,  a  sarcastic,  cynical,  successful 
man,  and  so  overwhelm  them  with  confusion. 
For  poor  Cass  had  not  yet  reached  that  supe 
riority  of  knowing  that  success  would  depend 
upon  his  ability  to  forego  his  past.  Indeed, 
part  of  his  boyhood  had  been  cast  among 
these  men,  and  he  was  not  old  enough  to  have 
learned  that  success  was  not  to  be  gauged  by 
their  standard.  The  moon  lit  up  the  dark  in 
terior  of  the  coach  with  a  faint  poetic  light. 
The  lazy  swinging  of  the  vehicle  that  was 
bearing  him  away  —  albeit  only  for  a  night 


140  FOUND  AT  BLAZING  STAR. 

and  a  day  — the  solitude,  the  glimpses  from 
the  window  of  great  distances  full  of  vague 
possibilities,  made  the  abused  ring  potent  as 
that  of  Gyges.  He  dreamed  with  his  eyes 
open.  From  an  Alnaschar  vision  he  suddenly 
awoke.  The  coach  had  stopped.  The  voices 
of  men,  one  in  entreaty,  one  in  expostulation, 
came  from  the  t}ox.  Cass  mechanically  put 
his  hand  to  his  pistol  pocket. 

"  Thank  you,  but  I  insist  upon  getting 
down." 

It  was  Miss  Porter's  voice.  /This  was  fol 
lowed  by  a  rapid,  half-restrained  interchange 
of  words  between  Hornsby  and  the  driver. 
Then  the  latter  said,  gruffly,  — 

"  If  the  lady  wants  to  ride  inside,  let  her." 

Miss  Porter  fluttered  to  the  ground.  She 
was  followed  by  Hornsby.  "Just  a  minit, 
Miss,"  he  expostulated,  half  shamedly,  half 
brusquely,  "ye  don't  onderstand  me.  I 
only"  — 


FOUND  AT  BLAZING  STAR.  141 

But  Miss  Porter  had  jumped  into  the  coach. 

Hornsby  placed  his  hand  on  the  handle 
of  the  door.  Miss  Porter  grasped  it  firmly 
from  the  inside.  There  was  a  slight  struggle. 

All  of  which  was  part  of  a  dream  to  the 
boyish  Cass.  But  he  awoke  from  it  —  a  man  ! 
"  Do  you,"  he  asked,  in  a  voice  he  scarcely 
recognized  himself,  —  "Do  you  want  this  man 
inside  ?  " 

"No!" 

Cass  caught  at  Hornsby's  wrist  like  a 
young  tiger.  But  alas  !  what  availed  instinct 
ive  chivalry  against  main  strength.  He  only 
succeeded  in  forcing  the  door  open  in  spite  of 
Miss  Porter's  superior  strategy,  and  —  I  fear 
I  must  add,  muscle  also  —  and  threw  himself 
passionately  at  Hornsby's  throat,  where  he 
hung  on  and  calmly  awaited  dissolution.  But 
he  had,  in  the  onset,  driven  Hornsby  out  into 
the  road  and  the  moonlight. 

"  Here  !     Somebody  take  my  lines."     The 


142  FOUND  AT  BLAZING  STAR. 

voice  was  "  Mountain  Charley's,"  the  driver. 
The  figure  that  jumped  from  the  box  and 
separated  the  struggling  men  belonged  to  this 
singularly  direct  person. 

"  You  're  riding  inside  ?  "  said  Charley,  in 
terrogatively,  to  Cass.  Before  he  could  reply 
Miss  Porter's  voice  came  from  the  window. 

"  He  is !  " 

Charley  promptly  bundled  Cass  into  the 
coach. 

"And  you?"  to  Hornsby,  aonless  you're 
kalkilatin'  to  take  ,  a  little  '  pasear '  you  're 
booked  outside.  Get  up." 

It  is  probable  that  Charley  assisted  Mr. 
Hornsby  as  promptly  to  his  seat,  for  the  next 
moment  the  coach  was  rolling  on. 

Meanwhile  Cass,  by  reason  of  his  forced 
entry,  had  been  deposited  in  Miss  Porter's  lap, 
whence,  freeing  himself,  he  had  attempted  to 
climb  over  the  middle  seat,  but  in  the  starting 
of  the  coach  was  again  thrown  heavily  against 


FOUND  AT  BLAZING  STAR.  143 

her  hat  and  shoulder  ;  all  of  which  was  incon 
sistent  with  the  attitude  of  dignified  reserve 
he  had  intended  to  display.  Miss  Porter, 
meanwhile,  recovered  her  good  humor. 

"  What  a  brute  he  was,  ugh ! "  she  said, 
retying  the  ribbons  of  her  bonnet  under  her 
square  chin,  and  smoothing  out  her  linen 
duster. 

Cass  tried  to  look  as  if  he  had  forgotten  the 
whole  affair.  "  Who  ?  Oh,  yes  !  I  see  !  "  he 
responded,  absently. 

"I  suppose  I  ought  to  thank  you,"  she 
went  on  with  a  smile,  "  but  you  know,  really, 
I  could  have  kept  him  out  if  you  had  n't 
pulled  his  wrist  from  outside.  I  '11  show  you. 
Look !  Put  your  hand  on  the  handle  there  I 
Now,  I  '11  hold  the  lock  inside  firmly.  You 
see,  you  can't  turn  the  catch  !  " 

She  indeed  held  the  lock  fast.  It  was  a 
firm  hand,  yet  soft — their  fingers  had  touched 
over  the  handle  —  and  looked  white  in  the 


144  FOUND  AT  BLAZING  STAR. 

moonlight.  He  made  no  reply,  but  sank  back 
again  in  his  seat  with  a  singular  sensation  in 
the  fingers  that  had  touched  hers.  He  was  in 
the  shadow,  and,  without  being  seen,  could 
abandon  his  reserve  and  glance  at  her  face. 
It  struck  him  that  he  had  never  really  seen 
her  before.  She  was  not  so  tall  as  she  had 
appeared  to  be.  Her  eyes  were  not  large, 
but  her  pupils  were  black,  moist,  velvety,  and 
so  convex  as  to  seem  embossed  on  the  white. 
She  had  an  indistinctive  nose,  a  rather  color 
less  face  —  whiter  at  the  angles  of  the  mouth 
and  nose  through  the  relief  of  tiny  freckles 
like  grains  of  pepper.  Her  mouth  was  straight, 
dark,  red,  but  moist  as  her  eyes.  She  had 
drawn  herself  into  the  corner  of  the  back  seat, 
her  wrist  put  through  and  hanging  over  the 
swinging  strap,  the  easy  lines  of  her  plump 
figure  swaying  from  side  to  side  with  the  mo 
tion  of  the  coach.  Finally,  forgetful  of  any 
presence  in  the  dark  corner  opposite,  she  threw 


FOUND  AT  BLAZING  STAR.  145 

her  head  a  little  farther  back,  slipped  a  trifle 
lower,  and  placing  two  well-booted  feet  upon 
the  middle  seat,  completed  a  charming  and 
wholesome  picture. 

Five  minutes  elapsed.  She  was  looking 
straight  at  the  moon.  Cass  Beard  felt  his 
dignified  reserve  becoming  very  much  like 
awkwardness.  He  ought  to  be  coldly  polite. 

"I. hope  you're  not  flustered,  Miss,  by  the 
—  by  the  "  —  he  began. 

44 1  ?  "  She  straightened  herself  up  in  the 
seat,  cast  a  curious  glance  into  the  dark  cor 
ner,  and  then,  letting  herself  down  again, 
said:  "Oh,  dear,  no!" 

Another  five  minutes  elapsed.  She  had 
evidently  forgotten  him.  She  might,  at  least, 
have  been  civil.  He  took  refuge  again  in  his 
reserve.  But  it  was  now  mixed  with  a  cer 
tain  pique. 

Yet  how  much  softer  her  face  looked  in  the 
moonlight !  Even  her  square  jaw  had  lost 

10 


146  FOUND  AT  BLAZING  STAR. 

that  hard,  matter-of-fact,  practical  indication 
which  was  so  distasteful  to  him,  and  always 
had  suggested  a  harsh  criticism  of  his  weak 
ness.  How  moist  her  eyes  were  —  actually 
shining  in  the  light!  How  that  light  seemed 
to  concentrate  in  the  corner  of  the  lashes,  and 
then  slipped  —  a  flash  —  away  !  Was  she  ? 
Yes,  she  was  crying. 

Cass  melted.  He  moved.  Miss  Porter  put 
her  head  out  of  the  window  and  drew  it  back 
in  a  moment,  dry-eyed. 

"  One  meets  all  sorts  of  folks  traveling," 
said  Cass,  with  what  he  wished  to  make  ap 
pear  a  cheerful  philosophy. 

"  I  dare  say.  I  don't  know.  I  never  be 
fore  met  any  one  who  was  rude  to  me.  I 
have  traveled  all  over  the  country  alone,  and 
with  all  kinds  of  people  ever  since  I  was  so 
high.  I  have  always  gone  my  own  way, 
without  hindrance  or  trouble.  I  always  do. 
I  don't  see  why  I  should  n't.  Perhaps  other 


FOUND  AT  BLAZING  STAR.  147 

people  may  n't  like  it.  I  do.  I  like  excite 
ment.  I  like  to  see  all  that  there  is  to  see. 
Because  I  'm  a  girl  I  don't  see  why  I  cannot 
go  out  without  a  keeper,  and  why  I  cannot  do 
what  any  man  can  do  that  is  n't  wrong,  do 
you?  Perhaps  you  do  —  perhaps  you  don't. 
Perhaps  you  like  a  girl  to  be  always  in  the 
house  dawdling  or  thumping  a  piano  or  read 
ing  novels.  Perhaps  you  think  I  'm  bold  be 
cause  I  don't  like  it,  and  won't  lie  and  say  I 
do." 

She  spoke  sharply  and  aggressively,  and  so 
evidently  in  answer  to  Cass's  unspoken  indict 
ment  against  her,  that  he  was  not  surprised 
when  she  became  more  direct. 

"  You  know  you  were  shocked  when  I  went 
to  fetch  that  Hornsby,  the  coroner,  after  we 
found  the  dead  body." 

"  Hornsby  was  n't  shocked,"  said  Cass,  a 
little  viciously. 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  "  she  said,  abruptly. 


148  FOUND  AT  BLAZING  STAR. 

"  You  were  good  friends  enough  until "  — 
"  Until  he  insulted  me  just  now,  is  that  it?  " 
"  Until  he  thought,"  stammered  Cass,  "  that 
because    you   were  —  you    know  —  not   so  — 
so  —  so  careful  as  other  girls,  he  could  be  a 
little  freer." 

"  And  so,  because  I  preferred  to  ride  a  mile 
with  him  to  see  something  real  that  had  hap 
pened,  and  tried  to  be  useful  instead  of  look 
ing  in  shop  windows  in  Main  Street  or  prom 
enading  before  the  hotel"  — 

"  And  being  ornamental,"  interrupted  Cass. 
But  this  feeble  and  un-Cass-like  attempt  at 
playful  gallantry  met  with  a  sudden  check. 

Miss  Porter  drew  herself  together,  and 
looked  out  of  the  window.  "  Do  you  wish 
me  to  walk  the  rest  of  the  way  home?  " 

"No,"  said  Cass,  hurriedly,  with  a  crimson 
face  and  a  sense  of  gratuitous  rudeness. 
"  Then  stop  that  kind  of  talk,  right  there  !  " 
There  was  an  awkward  silence.     "  I  wish  I 


FOUND  AT  BLAZING  STAR.  149 

was  a  man,"  she  said,  half  bitterly,  half  ear 
nestly.  Cass  Beard  was  not  old  and  cynical 
enough  to  observe  that  this  devout  aspiration 
is  usually  uttered  by  those  who  have  least  rea 
son  to  deplore  their  own  femininity ;  and,  but 
for  the  rebuff  he  had  just  received,  would  have 
made  the  usual  emphatic  dissent  of  our  sex, 
when  the  wish  is  uttered  by  warm  red  lips  and 
tender  voices  —  a  dissent,  it  may  be  remarked, 
generally  withheld,  however,  when  the  mas 
culine  spinster  dwells  on  the  perfection  of 
woman.  I  dare  say  Miss  Porter  was  sincere, 
for  a  moment  later  she  continued,  poutingly : 

"And  yet  I  used  to  go  to  fires  in  Sacra 
mento  when  I  was  only  ten  years  old.  I  saw 
the  theatre  burnt  down.  Nobody  found  fault 
with  me  then." 

Something  made  Cass  ask  if  her  father  and 
mother  objected  to  her  boyish  tastes.  The 
reply  was  characteristic  if  not  satisfactory,  — 

"  Object  ?     I  'd  like  to  see  them  do  it.  " 


150  FOUND  AT  BLAZING  STAR. 

The  direction  of  the  road  had  changed. 
The  fickle  moon  now  abandoned  Miss  Pouter 
and  sought  out  Cass  on  the  front  seat.  It 
caressed  the  young  fellow's  silky  moustache 
and  long  eyelashes,  and  took  some  of  the  sun 
burn  from  his  cheek. 

"  What 's  the  matter  with  your  neck  ?  "  said 
the  girl,  suddenly. 

Cass  looked  down,  blushing  to  find  that  the 
collar  of  his  smart  "  duck "  sailor  shirt  was 
torn  open.  But  something  more  than  his 
white,  soft,  girlish  skin  was  exposed  ;  the  shirt 
front  was  dyed  quite  red  with  blood  from  a 
slight  cut  on  the  shoulder.  He  remembered 
to  have  felt  a  scratch  while  struggling  with 
Hornsby. 

The  girl's  soft  eyes  sparkled.  "  Let  we," 
she  said,  vivaciously.  "  Do  !  I  'm  good  at 
wounds.  Come  over  here.  No  —  stay  there. 
I  '11  come  over  to  you." 

She  did,  bestriding  the  back  of  the  middle 


FOUND  AT  BLAZING  STAR.  151 

seat  and  dropping  at  his  side.  The  magnetic 
fingers  again  touched  his;  he  felt  her  warm 
breath  on  his  neck  as  she  bent  toward  him. 

"It's  nothing,"  he  said,  hastily,  more  agi 
tated  by  the  treatment  than  the  wound. 

"  Give  me  your  flask,"  she  responded,  with 
out  heeding.  A  stinging  sensation  as  she 
bathed  the  edges  of  the  cut  with  the  spirit 
brought  him  back  to  common  sense  again. 
"  There,"  she  said,  skillfully  extemporizing  a 
bandage  from  her  handkerchief  and  a  com 
press  from  his  cravat.  "  Now,  button  your 
coat  over  your  chest,  so,  and  don't  take 
cold."  She  insisted  upon  buttoning  it  for 
him;  greater  even  than  the  feminine  delight  / 
in  a  man's  strength  is  the  ministration  to  his 
weakness.  Yet,  when  this  was  finished,  she 
drew  a  little  away  from  him  in  some  embar 
rassment —  an  embarrassment  she  wondered 
at,  as  his  skin  was  finer,  his  touch  gentler,  his 
clothes  cleaner,  and  —  not  to  put  too  fine  a 


152  FOUND  AT  BLAZING  STAR. 

point  upon  it  —  lie  exhaled  an  atmosphere 
much  sweeter  than  belonged  to  most  of  the 
men  her  boyish  habits  had  brought  her  in 
contact  with  —  not  excepting  her  own  father. 
Later  she  even  exempted  her  mother  from 
the  possession  of  this  divine  effluence.  After 
moment  she  asked,  suddenly,  "  What  are  you 
going  to  do  with  Hornsby  ?  " 

Cass  had  not  thought  of  him.  His  short 
lived  rage  was  past  with  the  occasion  that 
provoked  it.  Without  any  fear  of  his  adver 
sary  he  would  have  been  content  quite  willing 
to  meet  him  no  more.  He  only  said,  "  That 
will  depend  upon  him." 

"  Oh,  you  won't  hear  from  him  again," 
said  she,  confidently,  "  but  you  really  ought  to 
get  up  a  little  more  muscle.  You  've  no  more 
than  a  girl."  She  stopped,  a  little  confused. 

"  What  shall  I  do  with  your  handker 
chief  ?  "  asked  the  uneasy  Cass,  anxious  to 
change  the  subject. 


FOUND  AT  BLAZING  STAR.  153 

"  Oh,  keep  it,  if  you  want  to,  only  don't 
show  it  to  everybody  as  you  did  that  ring  you 
found."  Seeing  signs  of  distress  in  his  face, 
she  added :  "  Of  course  that  was  all  nonsense. 
If  you  had  cared  so  much  for  the  ring  you 
couldn't  have  talked  about  it,  or  shown  it. 
Could  you  ?  " 

It  relieved  him  to  think  that  this  might  be 
true  ;  he  certainly  had  not  looked  at  it  in  that 
light  before. 

"But  did  you  really  find  it?"  she  asked, 
with  sudden  gravity.  "  Really,  now  ?  " 

"  Yes." 

"  And  there  was  no  real  May  in  the  case  ?  " 

"  Not  that  I  know  of,"  laughed  Cass,  se 
cretly  pleased. 

But  Miss  Porter,  after  eying  him  critically 
for  a  moment,  jumped  up  and  climbed  back 
again  to  her  seat.  "  Perhaps  you  had  better 
give  me  that  handkerchief  back." 

Cass  began  to  unbutton  his  coat. 


154  FOUND  AT  BLAZING  STAR. 

"  No !  no  !  Do  you  want  to  take  your 
death  of  cold  ?  "  she  screamed.  And  Cass,  to 
avoid  this  direful  possibility,  rebuttoned  his 
coat  again  over  the  handkerchief  and  a  pe 
culiarly  pleasing  sensation. 

Very  little  now  was  said  until  the  rattling, 
bounding  descent  of  the  coach  denoted  the  ap 
proach  to  Red  Chief.  The  straggling  main 
street  disclosed  itself,  light  by  light.  In  the 
flash  of  glittering  windows  and  the  sound  of 
eager  voices  Miss  Porter  descended,  without 
waiting  for  Cass's  proffered  assistance,  and 
anticipated  Mountain  Charley's  descent  from 
the  box.  A  few  undistinguishable  words 
passed  between  them. 

"  You  kin  freeze  to  me,  Miss,"  said  Char 
ley  ;  and  Miss  Porter,  turning  her  frank  laugh 
and  frankly  opened  palm  to  Cass,  half  re 
turned  the  pressure  of  his  hand  and  slipped 
away. 

A  few  days  after  the  stage  coach  incident, 


FOUND  AT  BLAZING  STAR.          155 

Mountain  Charley  drew  up  beside  Cass  on  the 
Blazing  Star  turnpike,  and  handed  him  a 
small  packet.  "I  was  told  to  give  ye  that 
by  Miss  Porter.  Hush  —  listen  !  It 's  that 
rather  old  dog-goned  ring  o'  yours  that 's  bin 
in  all  the  papers.  She 's  bamboozled  that 
sap-headed  county  judge,  Boompointer,  into 
givin'  it  to  her.  Take  my  advice  and  sling 
it  away  for  some  other  feller  to  pick  up  and 
get  looney  over.  That's  all !  " 

"Did  she  say  anything?"  asked  Cass, 
anxiously,  as  he  received  his  lost  treasure 
somewhat  coldly. 

"  Well,  yes  !  I  reckon.  She  asked  me  to 
stand  betwixt  Hornsby  and  you.  So  don't 
you  tackle  him,  and  I  '11  see  Tie  don't  tackle 
you,"  and  with  a  portentous  wink  Mountain 
Charley  whipped  up  his  horses  and  was  gone. 

Cass  opened  the  packet.  It  contained 
nothing  but  the  ring.  Unmitigated  by  any 
word  of  greeting,  remembrance,  or  even  rail- 


156  FOUND  AT  BLAZING  STAR. 

ery,  it  seemed  almost  an  insult.  Had  she 
intended  to  flaunt  his  folly  in  his  face,  or  had 
she  believed  he  still  mourned  for  it  and 
deemed  its  recovery  a  sufficient  reward  for 
his  slight  service?  For  an  instant  he  felt 
tempted  to  follow  Charley's  advice,  and  cast 
this  symbol  of  folly  and  contempt  in  the  dust 
of  the  mountain  road.  And  had  she  not 
made  his  humiliation  complete  by  begging 
Charley's  interference  between  him  and  his 
enemy  ?  He  would  go  home  and  send  her 
back  the  handkerchief  she  l^ad  given  him. 
But  here  the  unromantic  reflection  that  al 
though  he  had  washed  it  that  very  afternoon 
in  the  solitude  of  his  own  cabin,  he  could  not 
possibly  iron  it,  but  must  send  it  "  rough 
dried,"  stayed  his  indignant  feet. 

Two  or  three  days,  a  week,  a  fortnight 
even,  of  this  hopeless  resentment  filled  Cass's 
breast.  Then  the  news  of  Kanaka  Joe's  ac 
quittal  in  the  State  Court  momentarily  re- 


FOUND  AT  BLAZING  STAR.          157 

vived  the  story  of  the  ring,  and  revamped  a 
few  stale  jokes  in  the  camp.  But  the  interest 
soon  flagged  ;  the  fortunes  of  the  little  com 
munity  of  Blazing  Star  had  been  for  some 
months  failing ;  and  with  early  snows  in  the 
mountain  and  wasted  capital  in  fruitless 
schemes  on  the  river,  there  was  little  room 
for  the  indulgence  of  that  lazy  and  original 
humor  which  belonged  to  their  lost  youth 
and  prosperity.  Blazing  Star  truly,  in  the 
grim  figure  of  their  slang,  was  "  played  out." 
Not  dug  out,  worked  out,  or  washed  out,  but 
dissipated  in  a  year  of  speculation  and  chance. 
Against  this  tide  of  fortune  Cass  struggled 
manfully,  and  even  evoked  the  slow  praise  of 
his  companions.  Better  still,  he  won  a  certain 
praise  for  himself,  in  himself,  in  a  conscious 
ness  of  increased  strength,  health,  power,  and 
self-reliance.  He  began  to  turn  his  quick 
imagination  and  perception  to  some  practical 
account,  and  made  one  or  two  discoveries 


158  FOUND  AT  BLAZING  STAR. 

which  quite  startled  his  more  experienced, 
but  more  conservative  companions.  Never 
theless,  Cass's  discoveries  and  labors  were 
not  of  a  kind  that  produced  immediate  pecu 
niary  realization,  and  Blazing  Star,  which 
consumed  so  many  pounds  of  pork  and  flour 
daily,  did  not  unfortunately  produce  the  daily 
equivalent  in  gold.  Blazing  Star  lost  its 
credit.  Blazing  Star  was  hungry,  dirty,  and 
ragged.  Blazing  Star  was  beginning  to  set. 

Participating  in  the  general  ill  luck  of  the 
camp,  Cass  was  not  without  fyis  own  individ 
ual  mischances.  He  had  resolutely  deter 
mined  to  forget  Miss  Porter  and  all  that 
tended  to  recall  the  unlucky  ring,  but,  cruelly 
enough,  she  was  the  only  thing  that  refused 
to  be  forgotten  —  whose  undulating  figure  re 
clined  opposite  to  him  in  the  weird  moonlight 
of  his  ruined  cabin,  whose  voice  mingled  with 
the  song  of  the  river  by  whose  banks  he  toiled, 
and  whose  eyes  and  touch  thrilled  him  in  his 


FOUND  AT  BLAZING  STAR.  159 

dreams.  Partly  for  this  reason,  and  partly 
because  his  clothes  were  beginning  to  be 
patched  and  torn,  he  avoided  Red  Chief  and 
any  place  where  he  would  be  likely  to  meet 
her.  In  spite  of  this  precaution  he  had  once 
seen  her  driving  in  a  pony  carriage,  but  so 
smartly  and  fashionably  dressed  that  he  drew 
back  in  the  cover  of  a  wayside  willow  that 
she  might  pass  without  recognition.  He 
looked  down  upon  his  red-splashed  clothes 
and  grimy,  soil-streaked  hands,  and  for  a  mo 
ment  half  hated  her.  His  comrades  seldom 
spoke  of  her  —  instinctively  fearing  some 
temptation  that  might  beset  his  Spartan  res 
olutions,  but  he  heard  from  time  to  time  that 
she  had  been  seen  at  balls  and  parties,  appar 
ently  enjoying  those  very  frivolities  of  her  sex 
she  affected  to  condemn.  It  was  a  Sabbath 
morning  in  early  spring  that  he  was  return 
ing  from  an  ineffectual  attempt  to  enlist  a 
capitalist  at  the  county  town  to  redeem  the 


160  FOUND  AT  BLALING  STAR. 

fortunes  of  Blazing  Star.  He  was  pondering 
over  the  narrowness  of  that  capitalist,  who 
had  evidently  but  illogically  connected  Cass's 
present  appearance  with  the  future  of  that 
struggling  camp,  when  he  became  so  footsore 
that  he  was  obliged  to  accept  a  u  lift "  from  a 
wayfaring  teamster.  As  the  slowly  lumber 
ing  vehicle  passed  the  new  church  on  the  out 
skirts  of  the  town,  the  congregation  were  sal 
lying  forth.  It  was  too  late  to  jump  down 
and  run  away,  and  Cass  dared  not  ask  his 
new-found  friend  to  whip  up  his  cattle.  Con 
scious  of  his  unshorn  beard  and  ragged  gar 
ments,  he  kept  his  eyes  fixed  upon  the  road. 
A  voice  that  thrilled  him  called  his  name.  It 
was  Miss  Porter,  a  resplendent  vision  of  silk, 
laces,  and  Easter  flowers — yet  actually  run 
ning,  with  something  of  her  old  dash  and  free 
dom,  beside  the  wagon.  As  the  astonished 
teamster  drew  up  before  this  elegant  appari 
tion,  she  panted:  — 


FOUND  AT  BLAZING  STAR  161 

"  Why  did  you  make  me  run  so  far,  and 
why  did  n't  you  look  up  ?  " 

Cass,  trying  to  hide  the  patches  on  his 
knees  beneath  a  newspaper,  stammered  that 
he  had  not  seen  her. 

"And  you  did  not  hold  down  your  head 
purposely  ?  " 

"  No,"  said  Cass. 

"  Why  have  you  not  been  to  Red  Chief  ? 
Why  didn't  you  answer  my  message  about 
the  ring?  "  she  asked,  swiftly. 

"  You  sent  nothing  but  the  ring,"  said 
Cass,  coloring,  as  he  glanced  at  the  teamster. 

"  Why,  that  was  a  message,  you  born  idiot." 

Cass  stared.  The  teamster  smiled.  Miss 
Porter  gazed  anxiously  at  the  wagon.  "I 
think  I  'd  like  a  ride  in  there ;  it  looks  awfully 
good."  She  glanced  mischievously  around  at 
the  lingering  and  curious  congregation.  "  May 
I?" 

But  Cass  deprecated  that  proceeding  strong- 
11 


162  FOUND  AT  BLAZING  STAR. 

ly.  It  was  dirty ;  he  was  not  sure  it  was  even 
wholesome ;  she  would  be  so  uncomfortable  ; 
he,  himself,  was  only  going  a  few  rods  far 
ther,  and  in  that  time  she  might  ruin  her 
dress  — 

"  Oh,  yes,"  she  said,  a  little  bitterly,  "  cer 
tainly,  my  dress  must  be  looked  after.  And 
—  what  else  ?  " 

"  People  might  think  it  strange,  and  believe 
I  had  invited  you,"  continued  Cass,  hesitat 
ingly. 

"  When  I  had  only  invited  myself  ?  Thank 
you.  Good-by." 

She  waved  her  hand  and  stepped  back  from 
the  wagon.  Cass  would  have  given  worlds  to 
recall  her,  but  he  sat  still,  and  the  vehicle 
moved  on  in  moody  silence.  At  the  first 
crossroad  he  jumped  down.  "  Thank  you," 
he  said  to  the  teamster.  "  You  're  welcome," 
returned  that  gentleman,  regarding  him  curi 
ously,  "  but  the  next  time  a  gal  like  that  asks 


FOUND  AT  BLAZING  STAR  103 

to  ride  in  this  yer  wagon,  I  reckon  I  won't 
take  the  vote  of  any  deadhead  passenger. 
Adios,  young  fellow.  Don't  stay  out  late  ; 
ye  might  be  run  off  by  some  gal,  and  what 
would  your  mother  say  ? "  Of  course  the 
young  man  could  only  look  unutterable  things 
and  walk  away,  but  even  in  that  dignified  ac 
tion  he  was  conscious  that  its  effect  was  some 
what  mitigated  by  a  large  patch  from  a  ma 
terial  originally  used  as  a  flour  sack,  which 
had  repaired  his  trousers,  but  still  bore  the 
ironical  legend,  "  Best  Superfine." 

The  summer  brought  warmth  and  promise 
and  some  blossom,  if  not  absolute  fruition  to 
Blazing  Star.  The  long  days  drew  Nature 
into  closer  communion  with  the  men,  and 
hopefulness  followed  the  discontent  of  their 
winter  seclusion.  It  was  easier,  too,  for  Capi 
tal  to  be  wooed  and  won  into  making  a  picnic 
in  these  mountain  solitudes  than  when  high 
water  stayed  the  fords  and  drifting  snow  the 


164  FOUND  AT  BLAZING  STAR. 

Sierran  trails.  At  the  close  of  one  of  these 
Arcadian  days  Cass  was  smoking  before  the 
door  of  his  lonely  cabin  when  he  was  as 
tounded  by  the  onset  of  a  dozen  of  his  com 
panions.  Peter  Drummond,  far  in  the  van, 
was  waving  a  newspaper  like  a  victorious 
banner.  "  All 's  right  now,  Cass,  old  man  !  " 
he  panted  as  he  stopped  before  Cass  and 
shoved  back  his  eager  followers. 

"  What 's  all  right  ?  "  asked  Cass,  dubiously. 

You  !  You  kin  rake  down  the  pile  now. 
You  're  hunky  !  You  're  on  velvet.  Listen  !  " 

He  opened  the  newspaper  and  read,  with 
annoying  deliberation,  as  follows  :  — 

"  LOST.  —  If  the  finder  of  a  plain  gold  ring, 
bearing  the  engraved  inscription,  '  May  to 
Cass,'  alleged  to  have  been  picked  up  on  the 
high  road  near  Blazing  Star  on  the  4th  March, 
186-,  will  apply  to  Bookham  &  Sons,  bank 
ers,  1007  Y.  Street,  Sacramento,  he  will  be 
suitably  rewarded  either  for  the  recovery  of 


FOUND  AT  BLAZING  STAR.          165 

the  ring,  or  for  such  facts  as  may  identify  it, 
or  the  locality  where  it  was  found." 

Cass  rose  and  frowned  savagely  on  his  com 
rades.  "  No  !  no  !  "  cried  a  dozen  voices,  as- 
suringly.  "  It 's  all  right !  Honest  Injun  ! 
True  as  gospel !  No  joke,  Cass  !  " 

"  Here  's  the  paper,  Sacramento  "  Union  " 
of  yesterday.  Look  for  yourself,"  said  Drum- 
mond,  handing  him  the  well-worn  journal. 
"  And  you  see,"  he  added,  "  how  darned 
lucky  you  are.  It  ain't  necessary  for  you  to 
produce  the  ring,  so  if  that  old  biled  owl  of  a 
Boompointer  don't  giv'  it  back  to  ye,  it 's  all 
the  same." 

"  And  they  say  nobody  but  the  finder  need 
apply,"  interrupted  another.  "  That  shuts 
out  Boompointer  or  Kanaka  Joe  for  the  mat 
ter  o'  that." 

"  It 's  clar  that  it  means  you,  Cass,  ez  much 
ez  if  they  'd  given  your  name,"  added  a  third. 

For  Miss  Porter's  sake  and  his  own  Cass 


166  FOUND  AT  BLAZING  STAR. 

had  never  told  them  of  the  restoration  of  the 
ring,  and  it  was  evident  that  Mountain 
Charley  had  also  kept  silent.  Cass  could  not 
speak  now  without  violating  a  secret,  and  he 
was  pleased  that  the  ring  itself  no  longer 
played  an  important  part  in  the  mystery. 
But  what  was  that  mystery,  and  why  was  the 
ring  secondary  to  himself  ?  Why  was  so 
much  stress  laid  upon  his  finding  it  ? 

"  You  see,"  said  Drummond,  as  if  answer 
ing  his  unspoken  thought,  '  that  'ar  gal  —  for 
it  is  a  gal  in  course  —  hez  read  all  about  it 
in  the  papers,  and  hez  sort  o'  took  a  shine  to 
ye.  It  don't  make  a  bit  o'  difference  who  in 
thunder  Cass  is  or  waz,  for  I  reckon  she  's 
kicked  him  over  by  this  time  "  — 

"  Sarved  him  right,  too,  for  losing  the  girl's 
ring  and  then  lying  low  and  keeping  dark 
about  it,"  interrupted  a  sympathizer. 

"  And  she  's  just  weakened  over  the  roman 
tic,  high-toned  way  you  stuck  to  it,"  continued 


FOUND  AT  BLAZING  STAR.  167 

Drummond,  forgetting  the  sarcasms  he  had 
previously  hurled  at  this  romance.  Indeed 
the  whole  camp,  by  this  time,  had  become 
convinced  that  it  had  fostered  and  developed 
a  chivalrous  devotion  which  was  now  on  the 
point  of  pecuniary  realization.  It  was  gener 
ally  accepted  that  "  she  "  was  the  daughter 
of  this  banker,  and  also  felt  that  in  the  cir 
cumstances  the  happy  father  could  not  do  less 
than  develop  the  resources  of  Blazing  Star  at 
once.  Even  if  there  were  no  relationship, 
what  opportunity  could  be  more  fit  for  pre 
senting  to  capital  a  locality  that  even  pro 
duced  engagement  rings,  and,  as  Jim  Fauquier 
put  it,  "  the  men  ez  knew  how  to  keep  'em." 
It  was  this  sympathetic  Virginian  who  took 
Cass  aside  with  the  following  generous  sug 
gestion  :  "  If  you  find  that  you  and  the  old 
gal  couldn't  hitch  hosses,  owin'  to  your  not 
likin'  red  hair  or  a  game  leg  "  (it  may  be 
here  recorded  that  Blazing  Star  had,  for  no 


168  FOUND  AT  BLAZING  STAR. 

reason  whatever,  attributed  these  unprepos 
sessing  qualities  to  the  mysterious  advertiser), 
"  you  might  let  me  in.  You  might  say  ez 
how  I  used  to  jest  worship  that  ring  with  you, 
and  allers  wanted  to  borrow  it  on  Sundays. 
If  anything  comes  of  it  —  why  —  we  're  pard- 
ners I " 

A  serious  question  was  the  outfitting  of  Cass 
for  what  now  was  felt  to  be  a  diplomatic  rep 
resentation  of  the  community.  His  garments, 
it  hardly  need  be  said,  were  inappropriate  to 
any  wooing  except  that  of  thp  "  maiden  all 
forlorn,"  which  the  advertiser  clearly  was  not. 
"  He  might,"  suggested  Fauquier,  "  drop  in 
jest  as  he  is  —  kinder  as  if  he  'd  got  keerless 
of  the  world,  being  lovesick."  But  Cass  ob 
jected  strongly,  and  was  borne  out  in  his  ob 
jection  by  his  younger  comrades.  At  last  a 
pair  of  white  duck  trousers,  a  red  shirt,  a 
flowing  black  silk  scarf,  and  a  Panama  hat 
Tere  procured  at  Red  Chief,  on  credit,  after 


FOUND  AT  BLAZING  STAR.  169 

a  judicious  exhibition  of  the  advertisement. 
A  heavy  wedding  ring,  the  property  of  Drum- 
mond  (who  was  not  married),  was  also  lent 
as  a  graceful  suggestion,  and  at  the  last  mo 
ment  Fauquier  affixed  to  Cass's  scarf  an  enor 
mous  specimen  pin  of  gold  and  quartz.  "  It 
sorter  indicates  the  auriferous  wealth  o'  this 
yer  region,  and  the  old  man  (the  senior  mem 
ber  of  Bookham  &  Sons)  need  n't  know  I 
won  it  at  draw  poker  in  Frisco,"  said  Fau- 
qier. 

"  Ef  you  '  pass  '  on  the  gal,  you  kin  hand  it 
back  to  me  and  I'll  try  it  on."  Forty  dollars 
for  expenses  was  put  into  Cass's  hands,  and 
the  entire  community  accompanied  him  to  the 
cross  roads  where  he  was  to  meet  the  Sacra 
mento  coach,  which  eventually  carried  him 
away,  followed  by  a  benediction  of  waving 
hats  and  exploding  revolvers. 

That  Cass  did  not  participate  in  the  ex 
travagant  hopes  of  his  comrades,  and  that  he 


170  FOUND  AT  BLAZING  STAR. 

rejected  utterly  their  matrimonial  speculations 
in  his  behalf,  need  not  be  said.  Outwardly,  he 
kept  his  own  counsel  with  good-humored  as 
sent.  But  there  was  something  fascinating  in 
the  situation,  and  while  he  felt  he  had  forever 
abandoned  his  romantic  dream,  he  was  not 
displeased  to  know  that  it  might  have  proved 
a  reality.  Nor  was  it  distasteful  to  him  to 
think  that  Miss  Porter  would  hear  of  it  and 
regret  her  late  inability  to  appreciate  his  senti 
ment.  If  he  really  were  the  object  of  some 
opulent  maiden's  passion,  he  would  show  Miss 
Porter  how  he  could  sacrifice  the  most  brill 
iant  prospects  for  her  sake.  Alone,  on  the 
top  of  the  coach,  he  projected  one  of  those 
satisfying  conversations  in  which  imaginative 
people  delight,  but  which  unfortunately  never 
come  quite  up  to  rehearsal.  "  Dear  Miss 
Porter,"  he  would  say,  addressing  the  back  of 
the  driver,  "  if  I  could  remain  faithful  to  a 
dream  of  my  youth,  however  illusive  and  un- 


FOUND  AT  BLAZING  STAR.  171 

real,  can  you  believe  that  for  the  sake  of  lucre 
I  could  be  false  to  the  one  real  passion  that 
alone  supplanted  it."  In  the  composition 
and  delivery  of  this  eloquent  statement  an 
hour  was  happily  forgotten  :  the  only  draw 
back  to  its  complete  effect  was  that  a  misplace 
of  epithets  in  rapid  repetition  did  not  seem  to 
make  the  slightest  difference,  and  Cass  found 
himself  saying  "Dear  Miss  Porter,  if  I  could 
be  false  to  ar  dream  of  my  youth,  etc.,  etc., 
can  you  believe  I  could  be  faithful  to  the  one 
real  passion,  etc.,  etc.,"  with  equal  and  per 
fect  satisfaction.  As  Miss  Porter  was  reputed 
to  be  well  off,  if  the  unknown  were  poor,  that 
might  be  another  drawback. 

The  banking  house  of  Bookham  &  Sons  did 
not  present  an  illusive  nor  mysterious  appear 
ance.  It  was  eminently  practical  and  matter 
of  fact;  it  was  obtrusively  open  and  glassy; 
nobody  would  have  thought  of  leaving  a  secret 
there  that  would  have  been  inevitaby  ciicu- 


172  FOUND  AT  BLAZING  STAR. 

lated  over  the  counter.  Cass  felt  an  uncom 
fortable  sense  of  incongruity  in  himself,  in  his 
story,  in  his  treasure,  to  this  temple  of  disen 
chanting  realism.  With  the  awkwardness  of 
an  embarrassed  man  he  was  holding  promi 
nently  in  his  hand  an  envelope  containing  the 
ring  and  advertisement  as  a  voucher  for  his 
intrusion,  when  the  nearest  clerk  took  the 
envelope  from  his  hand,  opened  it,  took  out 
the  ring,  returned  it,  said  briskly,  "  T'  other 
shop,  next  door,  young  man,"  and  turned  to 
another  customer. 

Cass  stepped  to  the  door,  saw  that  "  T'  other 
shop  "  was  a  pawnbroker's,  and  returned  again 
with  a  flashing  eye  and  heightened  color. 
"  It 's  an  advertisement  I  have  come  to  an 
swer,"  he  began  again. 

The  clerk  cast  a  glance  at  Cass's  scarf  and 
pin.  "Place  taken  yesterday  —  no  room  for 
any  more,"  he  said,  abruptly. 

Cass  grew  quite  white.    But  his  old  experi- 


FOUND  AT  BLAZING  STAR.  173 

ence  in  Blazing  Star  repartee  stood  him  in 
good  stead.  "  If  it 's  your  place  you  mean,"  he 
said  coolly,  "  I  reckon  you  might  put  a  dozen 
men  in  the  hole  you  're  rattlin'  round  in  —  but 
it 's  this  advertisement  I  'm  after.  If  Book- 
ham  is  n't  in,  maybe  you  '11  send  me  one  of 
the  grown-up  sons."  The  production  of  the 
advertisement  and  some  laughter  from  the  by 
standers  had  its  effect.  The  pert  young  clerk 
retired,  and  returned  to  lead  the  way  to  the 
bank  parlor.  Cass's  heart  sank  again  as  he 
was  confronted  by  a  dark,  iron-gray  man  —  in 
dress,  features,  speech,  and  action  —  uncom 
promisingly  opposed  to  Cass  —  his  ring  and 
his  romance.  When  the  young  man  had  told 
his  story  and  produced  his  treasure  he  paused. 
The  banker  scarcely  glanced  at  it,  but  said, 
impatiently,  — 

"  Well,  your  papers  ?  " 

"  My  papers  ?  " 

"  Yes.     Proof  of  your  identity.     You  say 


174  FOUND  AT  BLAZING  STAR. 

your  name  is  Cass  Beard.  Good !  What 
have  you  got  to  prove  it  ?  How  can  I  tell 
who  you  are  ?  " 

To  a  sensitive  man  there  is  no  form  of  sus 
picion  that  is  as  bewildering  and  demoralizing 
at  the  moment  as  the  question  of  his  identity. 
Cass  felt  the  insult  in  the  doubt  of  his  word, 
and  the  palpable  sense  of  his  present  inability 
to  prove  it.  The  banker  watched  him  keenly 
but  not  unkindly. 

"  Come,"  he  said  at  length,  "  this  is  not  my 
affair ;  if  you  can  legally  satisfy  the  lady  for 
whom  I  am  only  agent,  well  and  good.  I  be 
lieve  you  can  ;  I  only  warn  you  that  you  must. 
And  my  present  inquiry  was  to  keep  her  from 
losing  her  time  with  imposters,  a  class  I  don't 
think  you  belong  to.  There 's  her  card.  Good 
day." 

"  Miss  Mortimer."  It  was  not  the  banker's 
daughter.  The  first  illusion  of  Blazing  Star 
was  rudely  dispelled.  But  the  care  taken  by 


FOUND  AT  BLAZING  STAR.  175 

the  capitalist  to  shield  her  from  imposture  in 
dicated  a  person  of  wealth.  Of  her  youth  and 
beauty  Cass  no  longer  thought. 

The  address  given  was  not  distant.  With 
a  beating  heart  he  rung  the  bell  of  a  respecta 
ble-looking  house,  and  was  ushered  into  a  pri 
vate  drawing-room.  Instinctively  he  felt  that 
the  room  was  only  temporarily  inhabited  ;  an 
air  peculiar  to  the  best  lodgings,  and  when 
the  door  opened  upon  a  tall  lady  in  deep 
mourning,  he  was  still  more  convinced  of  an 
incongruity  between  the  occupant  and  her  sur 
roundings.  With  a  smile  that  vacillated  be 
tween  a  habit  of  familiarity  and  ease,  and  a 
recent  restraint,  she  motioned  him  to  a  chair. 

"  Miss  Mortimer "  was  still  young,  still 
handsome,  still  fashionably  dressed,  and  still 
attractive.  From  her  first  greeting  to  the 
end  of  the  interview  Cass  felt  that  she  knew 
all  about  him.  This  relieved  him  from  the 
onus  of  proving  his  identity,  but  seemed  to 


176  FOUND  AT  BLAZING  STAR. 

put  him  vaguely  at  a  disadvantage.  It  in 
creased  his  sense  of  inexperience  and  youth- 
fulness. 

"  I  hope  you  will  believe,"  she  began,  "  that 
the  few  questions  I  have  to  ask  you  are  to  sat 
isfy  my  own  heart,  and  for  no  other  purpose." 
She  smiled  sadly  as  she  went  on.  "  Had  it 
been  otherwise,  I  should  have  instituted  a  le 
gal  inquiry,  and  left  this  interview  to  some 
one  cooler,  calmer,  and  less  interested  than 
myself.  But  I  think,  I  know  I  can  trust  you. 
Perhaps  we  women  are  weak'  and  foolish  to 
talk  of  an  instinct,  and  when  you  know  my 
story  you  may  have  reason  to  believe  that  but 
little  dependence  can  be  placed  on  that;  but 
I  am  not  wrong  in  saying,  —  am  I  ?  "  (with 
a  sad  smile)  "  that  you  are  not  above  that 
weakness  ?  "  She  paused,  closed  her  lips 
tightly,  and  grasped  her  hands  before  her. 
"  You  say  you  found  that  ring  in  the  road 
some  three  months  before  —  the  —  the  —  you 


FOUND  AT  BLAZING  STAR.  177 

know  what  I  mean  —  the  body  —  was  discov 
ered  ?  " 

"  Yes." 

"  You  thought  it  might  have  been  dropped 
by  some  one  in  passing  ?  " 

"  I  thought  so,  yes  —  it  belonged  to  no  one 
in  camp." 

"  Before  your  cabin  or  on  the  highway  ?  " 

"  Before  my  cabin." 

"  You  are  sure  ?  "  There  was  something  so 
very  sweet  and  sad  in  her  smile  that  it  oddly 
made  Cass  color. 

"  But  my  cabin  is  near  the  road,"  he  sug 
gested. 

"  I  see  !  And  there  was  nothing  else  ;  no 
paper  nor  envelope  ?  " 

"  Nothing." 

"  And  you  kept  it  because  of  the  odd  resem 
blance  one  of  the  names  bore  to  yours  ?  " 

«  Yes." 
V     "  For  no  other  reason  ?  " 

12 


178  FOUND  AT  BLAZING  STAR. 

"  None."     Yet  Cass  felt  he  was  blushing. 

"  You  '11  forgive  my  repeating  a  question 
you  have  already  answered,  but  I  am  so  anx 
ious.  There  was  some  attempt  to  prove  at 
the  inquest  that  the  ring  had  been  found  on 
the  body  of  —  the  unfortunate  man.  But  you 
tell  me  it  was  not  so  ?  " 

"  I  can  swear  it." 

"  Good  God  —  the  traitor  !  "  She  took  a 
hurried  step  forward,  turned  to  the  window, 
and  then  came  back  to  Cass  with  a  voice 
broken  with  emotion.  "  I  have  told  you  I 
could  trust  you.  That  ring  was  mine  !  " 

She  stopped,  and  then  went  on  hurriedly. 
"  Years  .ago  I  gave  it  to  a  man  who  deceived 
and  wronged  me  ;  a  man  whose  life  since  then 
has  been  a  shame  and  disgrace  to  all  who 
knew  him.  A  man  who,  once,  a  gentleman, 
sank  so  low  as  to  become  the  associate  of 
thieves  and  ruffians  ;  sank  so  low,  that  when 
he  died,  by  violence  —  a  traitor  even  to  them 


FOUND  AT  BLAZING  STAR.  179 

—  his  own  confederates  shrunk  from  him,  and 
left  him  to  fill  a  nameless  grave.  That  man's 
body  you  found  !  " 

Cass  started.     "  And  his  name  was ?  " 

"  Part  of  your  surname.  Cass  —  Henry 
Cass." 

"  You  see  why  Providence  seems  to  have 
brought  that  ring  to  you,"  she  went  on. 
"  But  you  ask  me  why,  knowing  this,  I  am  so 
eager  to  know  if  the  ring  was  found  by  you 
in  the  road,  or  if  it  were  found  on  his  body. 
Listen !  It  is  part  of  my  mortification  that 
the  story  goes  that  this  man  once  showed  this 
ring,  boasted  of  it,  staked,  and  lost  it  at  a 
gambling  table  to  one  of  his  vile  comrades." 

"  Kanaka  Joe,"  said  Cass,  overcome  by  a 
vivid  recollection  of  Joe's  merriment  at  the 
trial. 

"  The  same.  Don't  you  see,"  she  said,  hur 
riedly,  "  if  the  ring  had  been  found  on  him 
I  could  believe  that  somewhere  in  his  heart 


180  FOUND  AT  BLAZING  STAR. 

he  still  kept  respect  for  the  woman  he  had 
wronged.  I  am  a  woman  —  a  foolish  woman, 
I  know  —  but  you  have  crushed  that  hope 
forever." 

"But  why  have  you  sent  for  me?"  asked 
Cass,  touched  by  her  emotion. 

"  To  know  it  for  certain,"  she  said,  almost 
fiercely.  "  Can  you  not  understand  that  a 
woman  like  me  must  know  a  thing  once  and 
forever?  But  you  can  help  me.  I  did  not 
send  for  you  only  to  pour  my  wrongs  in  your 
ears.  You  must  take  me  with  you  to  this 
place  —  to  the  spot  where  you  found  the  ring 
—  to  the  spot  where  you  found  the  body  — 
to  the  spot  where —  where  he  lies.  You  must 
do  it  secretly,  that  none  shall  know  me." 

Cass  hesitated.  He  was  thinking  of  his 
companions  and  the  collapse  of  their  painted 
bubble.  How  could  he  keep  the  secret  from 
them  ? 

"If  it   is   money  you  need,  let  not   that 


FOUND  AT  BLAZING  STAR.  181 

stop  you.  I  have  no  right  to  your  time  with 
out  recompense.  Do  not  misunderstand  me. 
There  has  been  a  thousand  dollars  awaiting 
my  order  at  Bookham's  when  the  ring  should 
be  delivered.  It  shall  be  doubled  if  you  help 
me  in  this  last  moment." 

It  was  possible.  He  could  convey  her  se 
cretly  there,  invent  some  story  of  a  reward 
delayed  for  want  of  proofs,  and  afterward 
share  that  reward  with  his  friends.  He  an 
swered  promptly,  "  I  will  take  you  there." 

She  took  his  hands  in  both  of  hers,  raised 
them  to  her  lips,  and  smiled.  The  shadow  of 
grief  and  restraint  seemed  to  have  fallen  from, 
her  face,  and  a  half-mischievous,  half-coquet 
tish  gleam  in  her  dark  eyes  touched  the  sus 
ceptible  Cass  in  so  subtle  a  fashion  that  he 
regained  the  street  in  some  confusion.  He 
wondered  what  Miss  Porter  would  have 
thought.  But  was  he  not  returning  to  her,  a 
fortunate  man,  with  one  thousand  dollars  in 


182          FOUND  AT  BLAZING  STAR. 

his  pocket !  Why  should  he  remember  he 
was  handicapped,  by  a  pretty  woman  and  a 
pathetic  episode  ?  It  did  not  make  the  prox 
imity  less  pleasant  as  he  helped  her  into  the 
coach  that  evening,  nor  did  the  recollection  of 
another  ride  with  another  woman  obtrude  it 
self  upon  those  consolations  which  he  felt  it 
his  duty,  from  time  to  time,  to  offer.  It  was 
arranged  that  he  should  leave  her  at  the 
"  Red  Chief  "  Hotel,  while  he  continued  on  to 
Blazing  Star,  returning  at  noon  to  bring  her 
with  him  when  he  could  do  it  without  expos 
ing  her  to  recognition.  The  gray  dawn  came 
soon  enough,  and  the  coach  drew  up  at  "  Red 
Chief  "  while  the  lights  in  the  bar-room  and 
dining-room  of  the  hotel  were  still  struggling 
with  the  far  flushing  east.  Cass  alighted, 
placed  Miss  Mortimer  in  the  hands  of  the 
landlady,  and  returned  to  the  vehicle.  It  was 
still  musty,  close,  and  frowzy,  with  half-awak 
ened  passengers.  There  was  a  vacated  seat 


FOUND  AT  BLAZING  STAR.          183 

on  the  top,  which  Cass  climbed  up  to,  and 
abstractedly  threw  himself  beside  a  figure 
muffled  in  shawls  and  rugs.  There  was  a 
slight  movement  among  the  multitudinous 
enwrappings,  and  then  the  figure  turned  to 
him  and  said,  dryly,  "  Good  morning !  "  It 
wa*s  Miss  Porter  ! 

"  Have  you  been  long  here  ? "  he  stam 
mered. 

"  All  night." 

He  would  have  given  worlds  to  leave  her  at 
that  moment.  He  would  have  jumped  from 
the  starting  coach  to  save  himself  any  expla 
nation  of  the  embarrassment  he  was  furiously 
conscious  of  showing,  without,  as  he  believed, 
any  adequate  cause.  And  yet,  like  all  inex 
perienced,  sensitive  men,  he  dashed  blindly 
into  that  explanation ;  worse,  he  even  told 
his  secret  at  once,  then  and  there,  and  then 
sat  abashed  and  conscience  stricken,  with  an 
added  sense  of  its  utter  futility. 


184  FOUND  AT  BLAZING  STAR. 

"  And  this,"  summed  up  the  young  girl, 
with  a  slight  shrug  of  her  pretty  shoulders, 
"is  your  May?" 

Cass  would  have  recommenced  his  story. 

"  No,  don't,  pray !  It  is  n't  interesting,  nor 
original.  Do  you  believe  it  ?  " 

"  I  do,"  said  Cass,  indignantly. 

"  How  lucky  !     Then  let  me  go  to  sleep." 

Cass,  still  furious,  but  uneasy,  did  not  again 
address  her.  When  the  coach  stopped  at 
Blazing  Star  she  asked  him,  indifferently : 
"  When  does  this  sentimental  pilgrimage  be- 
gin  ?  " 

"  I  return  for  her  at  one  o'clock,"  replied 
Cass,  stiffly. 

He  kept  his  word.  He  appeased  his  eager 
companions  with  a  promise  of  future  fortune, 
and  exhibited  the  present  and  tangible  re 
ward.  By  a  circuitous  route  known  only  to 
himself,  he  led  Miss  Mortimer  to  the  road  be 
fore  the  cabin.  There  was  a  pink  flush  of 
excitement  on  her  somewhat  faded  cheek. 


FOUND  AT  BLAZING  STAR.          185 

"  And  it  was  here?  "  she  asked,  eagerly. 

"  I  found  it  here." 

"And  the  body?" 

"  That  was  afterward.  Over  in  that  direc 
tion,  beyond  the  clump  of  buckeyes,  on  the 
Red  Chief  turnpike." 

"  And  any  one  coming  from  the  road  we 
left  just  now  and  going  to  —  to  —  that  place, 
would  have  to  cross  just  here  ?  Tell  me,"  she 
said,  with  a  strange  laugh,  laying  her  cold 
nervous  hand  on  his,  "  would  n't  they  ?  " 

"  They  would." 

"  Let  us  go  to  that  place." 

Cass  stepped  out  briskly  to  avoid  observa 
tion  and  gain  the  woods  beyond  the  highway. 
"You  have  crossed  here  before,"  she  said. 
"  There  seems  to  be  a  trail." 

"  I  may  have  made  it :  it  's  a  short  cut  to 
the  buckeyes." 

"  You  never  found  anything  else  on  the 
trail  ?  " 


186  FOUND  AT  BLAZING  STAR. 

"  You  remember,  I  told  you  before,  the  ring 
was  all  I  found." 

"  Ah,  true  !  "  she  smiled  sweetly  ;  "  it  was 
that  which  made  it  seem  so  odd  to  you.  I 
forgot." 

In  half  an  hour  they  reached  the  buckeyes. 
During  the  walk  she  had  taken  rapid  recog 
nizance  of  everything  in  her  path.  When 
they  crossed  the  road  and  Cass  had  pointed 
out  the  scene  of  the  murder,  she  looked  anx 
iously  around.  "  You  are  sure  we  are  not 
seen?" 

"  Quite." 

"  You  will  not  think  me  foolish  if  I  ask 
you  to  wait  here  while  I  go  in  there  "  —  she 
pointed  to  the  ominous  thicket  near  them  — 
"  alone  ?  "  She  was  quite  white. 

Cass's  heart,  which  had  grown  somewhat 
cold  since  his  interview  with  Miss  Porter, 
melted  at  once. 

"  Go  ;  I  will  stay  here." 


FOUND  AT  BLAZING  STAR.          187 

He  waited  five  minutes.  She  did  not  re 
turn.  What  if  the  poor  creature  had  deter 
mined  upon  suicide  on  the  spot  where  her 
faithless  lover  had  fallen  ?  He  was  reassured 
in  another  moment  by  the  rustle  of  skirts  in 
the  undergrowth. 

"  I  was  becoming  quite  alarmed,"  he  said, 
aloud. 

"  You  have  reason  to  be,"  returned  a  hur 
ried  voice.  He  started.  It  was  Miss  Porter, 
who  stepped  swiftly  out  of  the  cover.  "  Look," 
she  said,  "  look  at  that  man  down  the  road. 
He  has  been  tracking  you  two  ever  since  you 
left  the  cabin.  Do  you  know  who  he  is  ?  " 

"No!" 

"Then  listen.  It  is  three-fingered  Dick, 
one  of  the  escaped  road  agents.  I  know 
him ! " 

"  Let  us  go  and  warn  her,"  said  Cass,  ea 
gerly. 

Miss  Porter  laid  her  hand  upon  his  shoulder. 


188  FOUND  AT  BLAZING  STAR. 

"I  don't  think  she'll  thank  you,"  she  said, 
dryly.  u  Perhaps  you  'd  better  see  what  she  's 
doing,  first. 

Utterly  bewildered,  yet  with  a  strong  sense 
of  the  masterfulness  of  his  companion,  he 
followed  her.  She  crept  like  a  cat  through 
the  thicket.  Suddenly  she  paused.  "  Look  ! " 
she  whispered,  viciously,  "  look  at  the  tender 
vigils  of  your  heart-broken  May  !  " 

Cass  saw  the  woman  who  had  left  him  a 
moment  before  on  her  knees  on  the  grass, 
with  long  thin  fingers  digging  like  a  ghoul  in 
the  earth.  He  had  scarce  time  to  notice  her 
eager  face  and  eyes,  cast  now  and  then  back 
toward  the  spot  where  she  had  left  him,  be 
fore  there  was  a  crash  in  the  bushes,  and  a 
man,  —  the  stranger  of  the  road,  —  leaped  to 
her  side.  "  Run,"  he  said;  "  run  for  it  now. 
You  're  watched !  " 

"  Oh  !  that  man,  Beard !  "  she  said,  con 
temptuously. 


FOUND  AT  BLAZING  STAR.          189 

"  No,  another  in  a  wagon.  Quick.  Fool, 
you  know  the  place  now,  —  you  can  come 
later  ;  run  !  "  And  half-dragging,  half-lifting 
her,  he  bore  her  through  the  bushes.  Scarcely 
had  they  closed  behind  the  pair  than  Miss 
Porter  ran  to  the  spot  vacated  by  the  woman. 
"  Look  !  "  she  cried,  triumphantly,  "  look  !  " 

Cass  looked,  and  sank  on  his  knees  beside 
her. 

"  It  was  worth  a  thousand  dollars,  was  n't 
it?"  she  repeated,  maliciously,  "  wasn't  it? 
But  you  ought  to  return  it !  Really  you 
ought." 

Cass  could  scarcely  articulate.  "  But  how 
did  you  know  it  ?  "  he  finally  gasped. 

"Oh,  I  suspected  something;  there  was  a 
woman,  and  you  know  you  're  such  a  fool! " 

Cass  rose,  stiffly. 

"  Don't  be  a  greater  fool  now,  but  go  and 
bring  my  horse  and  wagon  from  the  hill,  and 
don't  say  anything  to  the  driver." 


190  FOUND  AT  BLAZING  STAR. 

"  Then  you  did  not  come  alone  ?  " 

"  No ;  it  would  have  been  bold  and  im 
proper." 

"  Please ! " 

"  And  to  think  it  was  the  ring,  after  all, 
that  pointed  to  this,"  she  said. 

"  The  ring  that  you  returned  to  me." 

44  What  did  you  say?" 

"  Nothing." 

"  Don't,  please,  the  wagon  is  coming." 

In  the  next  morning's  edition  of  the  "  Red 
Chief  Chronicle"  appeared  the  following 
startling  intelligence :  — 

EXTRAORDINARY  DISCOVERY 

FINDING    OF   THE    STOLEN     TREASURE    OF   WELLS,    FARGO 
&  CO.      OVER    $300,000    RECOVERED. 

Our  readers  will  remember  the  notorious 
robbery  of  Wells,  Fargo  &  Co.'s  treasure 
from  the  Sacramento  and  Red  Chief  Pioneer 
Coach  on  the  night  of  September  1.  Al- 


FOUND  AT  BLAZING  STAR.  191 

though  most  of  the  gang  were  arrested,  it  is 
known  that  two  escaped,  who,  it  was  pre 
sumed,  cached  the  treasure,  amounting  to 
nearly  $500,000  in  gold,  drafts,  and  jewelry, 
as  no  trace  of  the  property  was  found.  Yes 
terday  our  esteemed  fellow  citizen,  Mr.  Cass 
Beard,  long  and  favorably  known  in  this 
county,  succeeded  in  exhuming  the  treasure 
in  a  copse  of  hazel  near  the  Red  Chief  turn 
pike,  —  adjacent  to  the  spot  where  an 
unknown  body  was  lately  discovered.  This 
body  is  now  strongly  suspected  to  be  that  of 
one  Henry  Cass,  a  disreputable  character,  who 
has  since  been  ascertained  to  have  been  one  of 
the  road  agents  who  escaped.  The  matter  is 
now  under  legal  investigation.  The  success 
ful  result  of  the  search  is  due  to  a  systematic 
plan  evolved  from  the  genius  of  Mr.  Beard, 
who  has  devoted  over  a  year  to  this  labor.  It 
was  first  suggested  to  him  by  the  finding  of  a 
ring,  now  definitely  identified  as  part  of  the 


192  FOUND  AT  BLAZING  STAR. 

treasure  which  was  supposed  to  have  been 
dropped  from  Wells,  Fargo  &  Co.'s  boxes  by 
the  robbers  in  their  midnight  flight  through 
Blazing  Star. 

In  the  same  journal  appeared  the  no  less 
important  intelligence,  which  explains,  while 
it  completes  this  veracious  chronicle  :  — 

"  It  is  rumored  that  a  marriage  is  shortly 
to  take  place  between  the  hero  of  the  late 
treasure  discovery  and  a  young  lady  of  Red 
Chief,  whose  devoted  aid  and  assistance  to  this 
important  work  is  well  known  to  this  com 
munity." 


3<- 


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"5  6" 


